


Pinkies Never Lie

by emma1234



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Baker Harry, Blow Jobs, Bottom Louis, Dom/sub Undertones, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, Light Bondage, M/M, Photographer Harry, Rimming, Smut, Top Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-28
Updated: 2016-09-28
Packaged: 2018-08-18 08:28:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 83,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8155646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emma1234/pseuds/emma1234
Summary: “I just think if we’re both into it and neither of us is looking for something serious, why not?” Harry asks, eyes soft and voice sweet. He pauses and gives Louis a moment or two to answer. 
  There are countless reasons why Louis shouldn’t agree to this, but in the end, none of them really matter. This will end with Louis in pieces, but he’s been in love with Harry for four years. There was only ever one answer.   “Yeah,” Louis answers finally, hoping his voice sounds normal. “Why not?”AU in which Louis hates his job and loves Harry, Harry just wants a distraction, everyone else wants them to get their shit together, and Louis learns the hard way that new beginnings are only possible when something ends.





	1. Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Note:** I am NOT currently granting permission for this fic to be posted (the original or a translated version or a slightly altered version) elsewhere on the Internet. Please respect that.

When the doorbell rings, Louis and Zayn are smoking a joint on the sofa.

“Louis or Zayn, make yourselves useful and get the door!” Liam calls from the kitchen. “We’ve all been working to set everything up and you’ve been sitting on your arses since you arrived!” 

Louis takes another hit and Zayn acts like he hasn’t heard anything.

“Don’t make me come out there!” Liam calls out a second time, and Louis makes eye contact with Zayn before jerking his head toward the front door. Zayn just stares back at him, clearly unimpressed. 

Louis mutters under his breath when he gets up, something about Zayn being a terrible friend and human being. He walks across the room and flings open the door dramatically, but it only takes one glance at the man on the other side for him to freeze. He’s never seen this person before, which makes him think that it’s the new guy that Liam met in one of his classes. Louis can’t quite recall what name Liam had mentioned earlier. Probably because he hadn’t actually been listening.

This guy is really attractive. Like, really, really attractive. Louis hates Liam for failing to inform him about this beforehand, but knowing Liam, he probably didn’t even notice the man’s good looks. As Louis stands here, dressed far too casually and feeling completely unprepared to talk to a hot guy, he’s paying the price for Liam’s obliviousness.

The man is taller than Louis by a few inches and he has dark brown curls that he’s brushed back from his face. His eyes are a lovely green color, his lips are naturally a pretty shade of pink, and he has a dimple engraved in one cheek as he smiles. Louis resists the urge to stick a finger in said dimple and brush his hands through the man’s soft-looking hair, but just barely. He isn’t sure if this guy is interested in men at all, but if he is, damn, Louis is going for it.

Then Louis realizes that he and this guy are still standing in the doorway.

“Fuck, mate, come on in. I’m Louis Tomlinson. Are you the new guy?” He reaches out to take a plate of cupcakes from the man’s hands, leading him toward the table where all the food is set up.

“Uh, yes, I am. I’m Harry Styles,” Harry says, reaching out to shake Louis’ hand as soon as Louis puts the cupcakes down. His voice is significantly deeper than Louis expected it to be, and that alone makes his stomach flutter a bit.

“Great to meet you, Harry. I see you were chosen to bless us with dessert.” He motions to the cupcakes, which are elaborately decorated with frosting flowers. 

“Uh, yeah, I work part-time at a bakery, so I figured it was the least I could do. Which of these delicious foods is yours?” Harry asks. His eyes scan the table of steaming chicken, mash, carrots, and various other dishes.

“Ah, my offering is this one,” Louis says, pointing to a plate that Liam shoved onto the corner of the table. Harry chokes out a laugh and Louis looks at him, eyes narrowing. 

“You brought sandwiches to a potluck,” Harry says slowly, one eyebrow raised. 

“Hey, fuck you,” Louis says, prepared to aggressively defend his sandwiches. He doesn’t need this newbie coming in here with elitist cupcakes and insulting him because he doesn’t think Louis’ appetizer contribution is up to standards. “Not all of us were blessed with cooking or baking genes, alright? Besides, I cut them up into little triangles and stuck the toothpicks in. They look sophisticated and everybody likes them.”

Harry throws his hands up in defeat, laughing. 

“I didn’t mean to offend, Lou. Please accept my deepest apologies.” Louis just glares at Harry in response and stomps over to where Zayn is well on his way to finishing the weed without him. 

Harry wanders over awkwardly while Louis snatches the joint out of Zayn’s fingers. Louis closes his eyes as he inhales, ignoring the sound of Harry’s stupidly deep voice when he introduces himself to Zayn. By the time Louis opens his eyes again, Harry is sitting next to him and staring. He suddenly feels defensive again.

“Going to judge us for enjoying weed now? Judging my sandwiches wasn’t enough for you, pal?” Louis says, voice harsh. Out of his peripheral vision, he sees Zayn roll his eyes, but Louis chooses to ignore him. 

Harry raises his eyebrows at Louis and puts his hand out. Louis looks at Zayn, who just shrugs, so he hands Harry the joint. Harry maintains eye contact with Louis while he inhales, and Louis wants to look away, but doesn’t. The twat even wiggles his eyebrows while he exhales the smoke, and Louis sighs when Zayn high fives him, giggling. 

“I’m gonna grab one of those mini-sandwiches,” Harry says, standing up and walking away from the sofa. Louis looks over and sees that Harry really is getting one, plopping it into his mouth before grabbing a second sandwich to bring back with him. Louis has to suppress a smile. 

“Alright, he can stay,” he says, ignoring Zayn’s laughter.

 

*

 

Three hours later, Harry and Louis are sprawled out on the sofa. Zayn and most of the other guests have already left, but Liam and a girl named Sophia are cleaning up in the kitchen. Harry and Louis tried to help — well, scratch that, Harry tried to help, and Louis managed to get them both kicked out of the room immediately. They’re both high and a little bit tipsy, stuffed from the ridiculous amount of food they consumed, and now they’re just sitting down, talking, and giggling.

“Shut up,” Harry hisses, elbowing Louis. “The idea of me being on scholarship as an athlete isn’t that funny. You’re fucking rude.” Louis giggles again.

“I saw you walk across the room and trip over the air earlier. Don’t even try,” Louis says. “Now tell me what you’re really studying.”

Harry sighs. “Photography,” he admits. “I’m hoping to be a freelance photographer when I graduate, but I want to continue working at the bakery part-time for as long as I can. It’s great stress relief for me, baking, and while I don’t want it to be my only job because I love taking photos too much, it’s still important to me. I’m hoping to do both.” 

Louis smiles fondly. He’d noticed Harry skulking around with a camera earlier in the night, snapping photos of all the people in attendance laughing and chatting with one another. Louis was too high to pay much attention, but he’s pretty sure he made an appearance in several of the photos himself. 

It’s nice to hear Harry talk about his interest in photography. Louis loves hearing people talking about the activities that they enjoy, and he loves it even more when people pursue a career that really means something to them. Louis worries too much about not leading a stable life to blindly follow his dreams, but even without knowing much about Harry Styles, he feels certain in that moment that Harry will manage to pursue both of his passions.

Harry turns his gaze toward Louis. His eyes are bloodshot and watery, but they’re still the prettiest green Louis has ever seen. He wants to kiss Harry so badly, has been wanting to since Harry insulted his sandwiches, honestly, but he resists. They’ve only known each other for a few hours, but Harry has a way of looking at Louis like he’s the most important person Harry’s ever met. 

“And what are you studying, Lou? Something to do with cooking, I presume?” Harry asks, a crooked grin on his face.

“Fuck you,” Louis says without heat. “I’m just studying business. I wanted to do drama and be an actor, but I didn’t think it would be practical, so here I am.” He looks up from where he’s fiddling with the strings on his hoodie to see that Harry is smiling at him softly.

“I think you would be a great actor, Louis. You can do whatever you want to do.” He sounds so earnest that it makes something in Louis’ chest tighten. It feels good to hear, even if it is just from a man he met tonight.

“You don’t even know me,” he says, but he nudges his body closer to Harry’s on the sofa. The weed is making him sleepy now, and he wishes he could just doze here with Harry instead of having to walk home.

“I don’t know you yet,” Harry says, wrapping his arm around Louis’ shoulders. Louis snuggles in closer, and Harry lets him. “But I’m going to, Louis Tomlinson. I can tell we’re going to be great friends,” Harry says, giving Louis’ shoulder a gentle squeeze.

Louis wiggles out from under Harry’s arm and stares at the curly-haired twat next to him. 

“Oh yeah, Styles? Are we gonna be best friends forever?” He says sarcastically, but he knows his smile gives him away.

Harry raises his eyebrows and sticks out his pinky.

“Yeah, we are. I pinky promise.” 

Louis stares at him. “Are we five years old? Does alcohol and weed make you revert back into a child?” 

Harry just smiles at him and shrugs.

“Pinky promise, Louis. C’mon, you know you want to.” 

Louis huffs. He’s pretty sure he hasn’t made a pinky promise since he promised Lottie there wasn’t a monster under her bed about six years ago. Despite how ridiculous he feels, he grabs Harry’s pinky and hooks his smaller one around it.

“I pinky promise, Harry Styles. We just met and we may never see each other again and I know literally nothing about you other than the fact that you make pinky promises like a child, you love baking and taking photos, you have curly hair and green eyes, you’re the same height as me—“ Louis cuts himself off when he hears Harry laughing at that. “And,” he continues diplomatically, choosing to ignore Harry’s laughter about his height. “You’re a complete and utter twat. Still, I pinky promise that we will be best friends forever.” 

Harry laughs and lifts their hands up like they’ve just had a victory, fingers still locked.

Louis has no idea what he’s getting himself into then, but he’ll find out soon enough. For now, he just tries to ignore the rapid pace of his heartbeat when Harry looks at him. It’s just natural excitement over meeting someone new, he’s sure. There’s no reason to think that it’s anything more than that.

“Pinkies never lie,” Harry says, and Louis smiles.


	2. Chapter One

**_Four years later..._ **

“You can’t be serious, Louis,” Liam says, eyes wide. “Tony is just trying to make sure they’re not living fast and wild without any rules because when you do that, people wind up getting hurt.”

Louis chokes out a laugh. He can’t believe he’s seriously having this conversation right now. If he were a better person, he would probably leave it alone and respect Liam’s right to his wrong opinion. As it is, Louis is far too sober to even pretend to be that good of a person. He’s ready to fight.

“Mate, what the fuck are you talking about? I’d say there’s a higher risk of corruption among people who hold political power, so suggesting the government can always be trusted to make reasonable decisions about when the Avengers should or shouldn’t intervene is bound to end in disaster,” Louis says, gesturing wildly.

He hears Harry snort from the other end of the sofa and turns toward him with a glare before continuing. 

“Also,” he adds, “What happens if the government wants to ignore something or someone really evil? I mean, honestly, Payno, think about it. Think about how many times governments of the world have chosen to ignore serious issues like genocide and famine until thousands upon thousands of people have been hurt or killed. A group of Avengers that can only follow government command would be forced to let evils go unchecked.” 

Louis glances over in Zayn’s direction and sees his roommate nodding his head furiously in agreement. 

Liam huffs and removes his arm from around Sophia’s shoulders, leaning forward out of aggravation. When Louis sees Sophia roll her eyes, he has to suppress a smile. Everybody knows Liam is wrong and Louis is right, including Liam’s own girlfriend. He’ll have a chat with her about that behind Liam’s back later.

“The Avengers shouldn’t be able to make huge decisions on their own,” Liam says, trying to launch into his argument, but Louis is tired of hearing it before he even really begins.

“Um, why the fuck not?” Louis asks, exasperated. “ _They’re_ the people with special talents or supernatural abilities, not the government wankers who think they know shit when they don’t. Besides, it’s not like the Avengers haven’t proven over and over that they’re looking out for the good of mankind.” 

Liam gets to his feet, clearly irritated. 

“People have died because of them! Innocent people!” He says, and Niall pauses where he’s just entered the room, burger halfway to his mouth. It’s clear that he isn’t quite sure what he just walked into.

Louis stands up himself and walks over to Liam.

“More innocent people would have died if the government had told them not to get involved!” Louis argues, jabbing his finger into Liam’s chest several times. 

Liam puffs out his chest, ready to respond, but Louis grabs his nipple and twists. Hard. Liam squeaks in surprise and slaps Louis’ hand away, but it’s too late. Everyone in the room is already laughing. 

Liam pulls Louis into a hug to show him that he’s forgiven and Louis laughs into his shoulder before pulling away.

Niall replaced Louis’ spot on the sofa when he stood up, so he wiggles his way into the empty spot directly beside Harry, who is sitting with Kendall on his lap. 

“I’m with you,” Harry mouths behind Kendall’s back, and they bump fists, as men do. 

The motion jostles Kendall, whose eyes have been glued to her phone. She clearly wasn’t paying any attention to the argument, and Louis bites his tongue to avoid making a rude comment. 

“What do you think, Kendall?” Harry says. “Are you team Iron Man or team Captain America?” 

Harry wiggles his eyebrows at Louis and Louis suppresses a smile.

“I don’t really care, honestly,” Kendall says, not bothering to look up from the text message she’s sending. “I thought the film sucked. Besides, the Hulk is better than Iron Man and Captain America combined.” She shrugs, and Louis would normally try to hide his outrage, but she’s not likely to notice it tonight anyway. Louis doesn’t miss the way Harry sighs, clearly annoyed by the behavior of his girlfriend of three years.

Louis gets up to get a glass of water from the kitchen, suddenly feeling annoyed that he has to work early tomorrow. Even after such a short interaction with Kendall, he needs a drink, but he knows that’s not a good idea. He’s the executive assistant to Simon Cowell, real estate mogul, entrepreneur, and overall terrible human being, and Louis has to show up to a weekend brunch meeting tomorrow. It’s difficult to watch everyone else drinking, as alcohol generally plays some role in their weekly Friday gatherings, but Louis knows how to be responsible when necessary.

Zayn somehow managed to beat Louis out to the kitchen. He’s busy chatting on the phone with his girlfriend, Gigi, who was feeling too ill to make it out tonight, so Louis fills a glass with water and waits patiently for him to hang up. 

As soon as the phone clicks, Zayn takes one look at Louis and says, “I know.” 

Louis groans. “She’s honestly unbearable. She didn’t use to be this bad, right?” Louis asks, keeping his voice at low volume. 

Zayn shakes his head. “Nope, she’s definitely gotten worse. She used to sometimes have fun doing stuff with us, or at least she would pretend to have fun, but now she doesn’t even bother. It’s not like she’s a bad person, but she doesn’t mesh well with our group. I don’t like even saying it, but I wish Harry would just leave her home.”

Louis secretly wishes the same, but he would hate if Harry stopped attending on Friday nights just because nobody wants to hang out with his girlfriend anymore. 

“I can’t believe they’re still together,” Louis says, and he really can’t. Before Kendall, during the first year or so that Louis knew him, Harry was all for hooking up with men or women and never seeing them again. He met Kendall when he was helping with a photoshoot for his internship, as she was a catalogue model at the time. One day, Harry had texted Louis to let him know that he had a date that night, and a couple of weeks later, he and Kendall were officially a couple. 

Kendall used to be nice enough, very polite and laid back, but it never seemed like she had much in common with Harry. Now it does less than ever. She certainly doesn’t have much in common with Harry’s friends, and while she used to go along with the things they enjoyed, over the past several months, she just stopped trying. 

Louis knows she enjoys more expensive activities because of her continuing success in the modeling world, and that includes dinners, art exhibits, fashion shows, and those types of events. Harry enjoys those things too, of course, but Harry also has fun during simpler and less expensive outings. There are a variety of incomes in their friend group, so they always try to do things they can all enjoy and afford so nobody is left out. That means a lot of nights hanging out at each others’ flats watching films or playing games and occasional nights at inexpensive pubs or clubs in London.

These days, Kendall acts distant and bored when they do any of those things.

Zayn breaks Louis out of his thoughts and reminds him that he said something in the first place.

“You can’t believe they’re still together because you’re in love with him and have been waiting four years for him to see what’s right in front of him and fuck your brains out,” Zayn says, laughing. Louis punches him in the arm.

“I’ve never met a human being I despise more than you, Zayn,” Louis says, though he doesn’t deny his flatmate’s accusations. 

Louis has been in love with Harry practically since the day they met, yes, but he has long since realized that Harry doesn’t view him that way and mostly likely never will. They’re best friends, and while Louis admittedly falls into the mold of the typical romantic comedy best friend pining his life away, he also just wants Harry to be happy. It’s obvious that regardless of how Harry and Kendall’s relationship may have been in the past, at the moment, Harry is not as happy as Louis thinks he deserves to be.

Zayn gets another phone call, probably from one of his sisters, so Louis retreats back into the living room with his glass of water. Liam is putting on a second film, and since this one isn’t Marvel, Louis assumes no more arguments will pop up. He sits down next to Harry again, noting that Kendall is no longer on his lap.

“Where’d Kendall run off to?” Louis asks quietly, though he doesn’t actually care.

Harry sighs, and Louis realizes that he’s been hearing that sound from Harry more than ever lately.

“She went home,” he says. 

Louis hums. Kendall’s never ditched one of their Friday night gatherings early before, even when she was clearly miserable. “Y’alright, mate?” Louis asks, reaching out to squeeze Harry’s knee. 

Relationships have always been the one thing that Louis and Harry don’t really discuss. As much as Louis wants Harry to be happy when it comes to his love life, it hurts to hear Harry talking about his relationships or sex when Louis wants to be the person he’s talking about. Louis also doesn’t like to talk to Harry about the men he’s sleeping with or dating because he always ends up wishing Harry would act jealous or show some type of interest. 

Louis also rarely brings men he’s dating around when Harry is there, mostly because he feels like a terrible person every time he does. His feelings for Harry are so much stronger than anything he’s felt for anyone else that encouraging interaction between Harry and his dates or boyfriends would feel wrong. 

It might be strange that he and Harry are so close and yet so isolated from each other’s partners, but it’s worked for them just fine. And of course, Harry has always been there for Louis after the end of a fling or relationship, usually just by buying him drinks at the pub to cheer him up or cuddling with him when he needs a shoulder to cry on, but that’s as far as it goes. That’s as far as it has ever gone.

Regardless, Louis knows that he’s on best friend duty at the moment. 

In response to Louis’ question, Harry sinks down further into the sofa. 

“We’ve been having some issues lately,” he says in a quiet voice, clearly not wanting to be overheard by their friends as the film begins. “A lot of fighting, basically. I can feel myself getting annoyed by everything she does, like, even small things that would have never bothered me in the past, and I feel like the same thing is happening on her end. We don’t fit anymore or something, and I don’t know how to fix it.”

Louis feels a sad pang in his chest. He hears the frustration and exhaustion dripping from every word out of Harry’s mouth and he hates it. 

“You’ll figure it out,” he says, squeezing Harry’s knee again. Harry rests his hand on Louis’.

“Thanks, Lou,” he says. “I just hate fighting with her and I hate feeling like this. Sorry for complaining though. I didn’t mean to make any additional drama on film night.”

Louis raises one eyebrow questioningly. “Additional drama?” 

Harry smirks and squeezes his hand again. “You and Liam, Captain America versus Iron Man,” he says slyly. “You were out here making sparks fly with your killer defense.”

Louis rolls his eyes at Harry’s sarcasm and takes his hand back, redirecting his attention to the TV screen.

“You may be trying to be sarcastic, but you’re actually spitting cold hard facts,” Louis says. 

Next to him, Harry laughs.

 

*

 

In the past five minutes, Louis has received five different emails from Simon with requests for things he needs to finish by Friday, and Louis wants to scream. He left work an hour ago, and he’s still being bombarded. 

He walks into the living room and throws himself down on the sofa. Zayn is sitting at the easel he set up several days before, finally having started on his next piece. His hair is held back with children’s barrettes while he works, and his tongue is poking out of his mouth in concentration. 

Louis sighs deeply, but Zayn continues to work without pause. Louis does it again. And again.

He gives up. “Zayn, do you agree that ties and socks are oppressive forces in our lives?” Louis asks. It’s not a particularly important subject to discuss at the moment, but since he just took his tie off, it’s the first thing that popped into his head when he decided to interrupt Zayn.

Zayn finally puts the paintbrush down and stares at him. 

“I’m an artist, so I have no obligation to wear ties or socks. That being said, I agree with your assessment. You’ve been wearing socks much more lately though, bro. I’ve noticed.”

Louis smiles appreciatively. Zayn may pretend to be aloof and oblivious a lot of the time, but he pays attention to the people he cares about. Louis has socks on right now, actually, so he takes the opportunity to wiggle his fabric-covered toes in Zayn’s direction.

“Yeah, they’re alright and they make my feet smell better, but I still think they’re oppressive. When the seam above the toes isn’t lined up perfectly, it’s so irritating. Ties are worse though,” Louis says, watching as Zayn picks up the paintbrush again and starts making small strokes on the canvas in front of him.

Louis is about to launch into a rant about ties when Zayn interrupts him.

“Simon stressing you out?” He asks, and Louis pauses, feeling caught out.

“Yeah,” he replies. He’s complained to Zayn enough times about how Simon sets his expectations too high, doesn’t respect Louis’ life, and doesn’t appreciate everything Louis does for him, so he knows Zayn understands. Or at least, he knows Zayn understands as much as someone who has never had an office job with a ridiculous boss can understand. 

Harry and Zayn have been lucky enough to pursue their passions through their professions with ease. Niall wanted to play footie on a professional level, but even after a serious knee injury, he still managed to find a way to do what he loves by helping kids excel at the sport as a footie coach. And while Liam’s job as a lawyer might not be his first choice, it’s obvious that he enjoys his work most of the time. 

It’s harder for Louis’ friends, but particularly Zayn and Harry, to understand what it’s like to dread going to work every day the way Louis does. He makes good money and he knows that he’s an asset to the organization, but Louis would never have chosen this future for himself if he weren’t so worried that he’d never be successful enough to make money doing what he truly wanted to do. 

Louis sighs again dramatically. He’s not sure what else to talk about with Zayn, but he’s also not ready to return to his room yet. If he does, he’ll probably just end up doing work the rest of the night.

“Heard anything about Harry and Kendall?” Louis asks suddenly. Zayn is the only friend he can ask questions like this without him reading much into it, mostly because Zayn knows everything there is to know about the situation with Harry and doesn’t care enough to bother Louis about it. Much.

Louis has been thinking about Kendall and Harry since Kendall left their gathering abruptly, and curiosity is getting the better of him.

Zayn looks at him and raises his eyebrows. Louis reaches up to adjust his fringe, uncomfortable.

“Well, the situation certainly hasn’t improved,” Zayn says. “I was texting Harry yesterday and he mentioned that they fought after Kendall left on Friday and they haven’t really spoken since then.”

Louis can’t hide his surprise. “How do they not speak when they live together?” He says, trying to picture how awkward it would be to give Zayn the silent treatment for several days. With Kendall and Harry, he imagines it would be even worse considering they share not only a flat, but also a bed. 

Zayn just makes a sound of agreement, clearly uninterested in the conversation. 

Louis’ leg is starting to fall asleep in his current position. He rearranges his limbs and props his face up on the arm of the sofa so he can see Zayn and his work more clearly. He’s clearly painting something abstract, but beyond that, Louis has no fucking idea what it’s supposed to be. 

“I need to get laid,” Louis says suddenly, and Zayn snorts.

“Nice transition from Harry’s relationship problems to your thirst for dick, bro,” Zayn says, and Louis blanches.

“I didn’t mean it that way,” Louis says. “It’s just, y’know, been a while. Fuck you.” 

Louis has no hope that he and Harry would ever hook up, let alone be together, but the idea of Harry and his rude girlfriend breaking up isn’t exactly unappealing. Louis knows thinking that makes him a terrible friend and a terrible person, which is why he needs to turn his focus toward someone else. Even if it’s just for a night. 

Zayn rolls his eyes, looking exasperated.

“We can go to a club soon, okay? Now take your thirsty self to your bedroom and have a wank so I can finish this in peace.” Zayn dips his paintbrush in another color and directs his attention back to his work. 

Louis’ mouth falls open, offended, but he gets to his feet, resisting the urge to throw a pillow at Zayn’s easel.

“Thanks for the support, you dickhead,” he says, walking to his room. He’s secretly considering taking Zayn’s advice, honestly, but he might be out of lube.

“You’re welcome!” He hears Zayn call just before his bedroom door slams closed.

 

*

 

“I heard Louis Walsh is leaving his position,” Louis says, fiddling with his tie nervously. Even if Louis weren’t exposing his nerves with his body language, Simon would probably be able to smell it on him.

Simon levels him a long look, and Louis wants to turn around and bolt. He digs his hands into his palm and resists.

“And?” Simon says, a slight mocking tone to his voice. That tone always makes Louis break out in a sweat, even after years of interacting with Simon. Simon knows exactly how to make Louis feel like the smallest person in the room with a simple glance or a single word. He does it all the time. 

“I just wanted to let you know that if you do choose to hire his replacement internally, I would be interested in taking up the position. Uh, I feel like I’ve proven myself to be extremely loyal to you and a major asset to the organization, so I hoped you might be willing to consider me among the pool of applicants or current employees.” Louis says, trying to keep his voice as calm and confident as possible and failing miserably.

Simon looks at him for a moment and then leans back in his chair, smiling widely.

“Ah, Louis, you know how important you are to the Cowell Organization,” Simon says, and Louis feels his heart sink. He’s heard a similar speech from Simon twice before. The previous two times, Simon promised him a promotion without Louis even asking, only to back out. “It wasn’t going to work out, but your current position is still perfect for you,” Simon had said both times. Louis may be the one approaching Simon today, but he knows well enough how this ends by now.

Simon continues. “You really have done incredible things for me and for the organization in general. You have such a clever business mind and a keen eye for details, and you actually have work ethic that reminds me of how I was at your age.” Simon smiles again condescendingly, and Louis has to actively stop himself from cringing at the implication that he’s anything like Simon Cowell. “I don’t think you’re quite ready for a promotion at this time, however. You understand, I’m sure.”

Louis grits his teeth and nods, forcing a smile. 

“Of course. If you don’t mind me asking though...” Louis trails off. Simon raises his eyebrows, clearly waiting Louis to continue. “Did you have anyone in mind for the position? Just out of curiosity. Feel free to tell me if I’m overstepping.” 

Louis knows he is, in fact, overstepping, but he also knows that Simon will take every opportunity to make someone feel as insignificant as possible. Telling Louis exactly who is worthy of a position that Louis supposedly isn’t worthy of definitely falls into that category. 

Simon glances at his laptop and starts typing as though Louis hadn’t said anything, as though Louis is beneath his attention entirely. Louis takes the dismissal for what it is and gets up to leave, anger prickling under his skin. No matter how many times this happens, Louis still lets Simon’s treatment get to him. He’s an incredibly strong person in almost every aspect of his life, but Simon somehow makes him feel both used and irrelevant. 

Louis’ hand is on the door handle when Simon speaks again.

“You’ve heard of Robert Winston, my close friend and a real friend to the Cowell Organization, right?” Simon asks, and Louis turns back around, nodding slowly. He’s met Mr. Winston several times. The man seems to have a lot in common with Simon, which is definitely not a compliment. “His son Ben has been struggling career-wise. He went to uni and studied TV production — wanted to be a producer or something silly like that, and you know how it goes. He found it difficult to break into the industry. I talked to Robert about it a few days ago, and he thinks that Ben would be great in the position. I trust Robert’s judgment, of course,” Simon says.

Louis can’t help the small laugh that escapes his mouth at that. Ben Winston, a failing producer with no experience in real estate or business, will be given a position at the Cowell Organization because his daddy is friends with Simon. Meanwhile, Louis, who studied business in uni, has been working diligently for Simon for two years, and has saved Simon’s arse on numerous occasions, is left in the dust.

“Of course,” Louis repeats, barely able to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

Simon raises his eyebrows at Louis’ tone before simply directing his attention back to his computer.

Louis doesn’t slam the door on the way out, but it’s a close call.

 

*

 

Three hours later, Louis’ mood has not improved. He’s internally debating whether he should take a break to grab something from a restaurant or just grab something from a vending machine when his phone beeps.

_Hey Lou, would you be able to meet me for lunch? x_

Louis glances at the clock. He texts Harry back saying that he’s in and then he asks why Harry wants to meet him in the first place. They’ve gotten lunch on weekdays before, of course, but they tend to stick to hanging out after work because whether Harry is at the bakery or taking photos, he’s rarely anywhere near the Cowell Organization.

_Kendall and I broke up. It was mutual. x_

Louis almost gasps out loud. Obviously he‘d known about Harry and Kendall’s issues and he’d vaguely considered (and hoped for) the possibility of them breaking up, but he didn’t really think it would happen. They’d been together for so long that it was almost strange to think about Harry as a single man. 

Harry offers to meet him at a small café down the street from Louis’ workplace, so Louis finishes up a few last things and tells Simon that he’s taking his lunch. Simon’s on the phone when Louis enters his office, and he simply waves him away, uninterested and unbothered.

Harry is already waiting at a small table when Louis enters the café, and there are two salads sitting in front of him. Louis doesn’t have to check to know that his is made just the way he likes it, right down to the dressing. 

“Pretty sure I should be the one buying you food,” Louis says, resting his hand on Harry’s shoulder gently as he comes up behind him.

Harry startles slightly and gets to his feet, giving Louis a weak smile. 

Louis knows that they’re standing in the middle of a crowded café, but he doesn’t care. He wraps his arms around Harry’s and squeezes him tight, smiling when he feels Harry press his face down into Louis’ neck. 

“Alright, babe?” Louis asks when he pulls away. Harry nods.

Once they’ve both cut their greens down into manageable bites, they eat silently for the first few minutes. Louis knows that he needs to wait for Harry to make the first move to talk about what’s happened, and Harry knows that Louis will wait until he’s ready to make that first move. 

Harry finally speaks when Louis returns to their table with a bottle of chocolate milk.

“I’m okay,” Harry says, and Louis nods. “I just realized sometime during the past two weeks that whatever fell apart with Kendall and I, it wasn’t something that we could fix easily. And worse than that, I didn’t really want to fix it, and I could tell she didn’t want to either.”

“Did it end this morning?” Louis asks, wondering how soon after the breakup Harry had reached out to him. Even without asking, Louis knows he’s the first person Harry told after his mum. They may not talk much about relationship stuff, but Louis is still Harry’s best friend and he’s always one of the first people to hear about things that happen in his life. Before today, he usually heard about things in Harry’s life even before Kendall did.

Harry shakes his head, but finishes chewing before answering. 

“Last night,” he explains. “Kendall has several shoots in Manchester and she’s going to be gone for about two weeks, so we both figured it would be easiest to end it before she left this morning. I think some of her friends are going to move out her stuff while she’s gone.”

Harry is tapping his fingers on the table, clearly uncomfortable, so Louis grabs his hand and squeezes.

“I’m sorry, Harry,” Louis says, and he is. He hates seeing someone who means so much to him upset like this.

Harry gives Louis a more genuine smile this time. 

“It is what it is, right?” He says, eyes flashing down to where Louis’ tattoo is hidden underneath his button-down shirt. “I’m sad and I’m going to miss her, but it’s become very obvious lately that we weren’t meant to be. I’ll always love her as a friend, but it’s time for both of us to move on. I just need a little while to mope first.” 

Louis gives Harry a mischievous smile and Harry dimples, knowing exactly what that look means.

“We’ll go out sometime in the next couple of weeks, whenever you’re ready. We’ll make all the boys come out and have a blast as single pringles, alright?” Louis says, putting his hands up and moving them in a dorky attempt at a dance move.

Harry looks at him fondly and steals the last two crisps out of Louis’ bag. 

“Ignoring the fact that two of the five are not single and none of us are pringles, I think I can manage a night out. I’ll let you know when I’m feeling up to it,” Harry says. “Thanks, Lou.”

“You’re welcome, Harold,” Louis says, smiling.

He glances down at his phone to see if Simon has sent any urgent text messages, but it seems he hasn’t. That means Louis can stick around for a while longer. When he glances up from his phone, he sees Harry’s fingers inching toward his chocolate milk, which is sitting on the table in front of him with the cap off.

Louis smacks his hand away and Harry looks dejected. 

“You’re insufferable,” Louis says, sighing. 

He lets Harry finish the chocolate milk.

 

*

 

Louis stays in close contact with Harry over the next several days, sending him frequent texts to get him smiling or check how he’s feeling. Harry seems like he’s doing okay, all things considered, but Louis knows it’s probably difficult for him to have to adjust to being single and living alone so quickly.

When Liam and Sophia leave town to visit Sophia’s parents less than a week after the breakup, Louis hears through the grape vine that Harry has offered to take care of their dog for a few days. Harry isn’t necessarily what you would describe as a dog person, so Louis assumes he just wants some company as he adjusts to the single life. 

When Harry calls Louis and asks him if he wants to join them at the park one afternoon after work, Louis agrees immediately. Unfortunately, he hasn’t spent a lot of time with Watson because Liam and Soph often leave him with one of their neighbors when friends are over to prevent him from becoming too rambunctious.

Louis changes from his work clothes into joggers and a t-shirt before leaving his flat, and when he arrives at the bench where they agreed to meet, he sees Harry in similarly comfortable clothes. 

Watson is an enormous dog, so Louis immediately refuses to hold the leash. He gets down on Watson’s level to give him a long scratch behind the ears upon arriving, but he’ll let Harry deal with the endless leash yanking.

They walk around for a while, chatting idly about work and plans for the upcoming weekend, none of which are really set in stone yet. Louis watches Watson trot along happily, stopping them every few meters to sniff something. Harry gives a few children permission to pet the pup since he’s so well behaved, and Watson responds with licks and friendly wags of his tail. 

After a while of walking, they settle down on a bench and give Watson the opportunity to lie down by their feet. Based on the sounds coming from the dog’s direction, Louis assumes he’s snacking on grass.

“Did you bring anything for him to play with?” Louis asks. Harry nods and reaches into his hoodie pocket.

“He seems to be a fan of this guy right here,” Harry says, pulling out a dirty tennis ball. Perfect.

Louis gets to his feet and Watson immediately stands as well, panting eagerly while Harry unhooks his collar. 

“You wanna fetch, buddy?” Louis asks, waving the ball in the air. He smiles when Watson barks excitedly and moves his head to follow the ball’s movement. 

“Go get it, Watson!” Louis says. He tosses the ball toward a group of bushes without any people or other dogs nearby. Watson bolts, tongue hanging out of his mouth as he runs, and Louis turns to Harry with a grin. When Watson comes sprinting back a few seconds later, the ball is already dripping with saliva. 

“Good boy, Watson!” Louis says, and Harry echoes his praise. Louis throws it several more times, Watson’s excitement growing more and more with each throw, and he and Harry just sit on the bench and laugh. After the fifth throw, Louis hands the soggy ball over to Harry.

“Your turn,” he says, smiling. Harry decides to switch it up and throw it in a different direction than Louis had been, but his aim is poor. Louis sees it all happen in slow motion and wishes he could do something to stop it, but it’s already too late. The ball smacks a young woman right in the bum. 

She immediately zeroes in on them and shoots them a dirty look, middle finger in the air. Harry throws his hands up helplessly as Louis struggles to hold back his laughter. 

“I’m so sorry,” Harry calls to her, but his apology loses meaning when Watson immediately barrels into her during his attempt to fetch the ball. She rolls her eyes and walks away.

“You’re an embarrassment,” Louis says, immediately rearranging his face into an exaggerated imitation of Harry’s expression when the ball hit the woman. He opens his mouth, eyes wide, and covers his mouth dramatically. 

Harry glares at him and shoves an elbow into Louis’ side. Louis is still laughing, perched on the edge of the bench, so when Harry’s elbow hits him, he loses his balance and falls into the grass at their feet. It’s a very short fall and it doesn’t hurt, but that doesn’t stop Harry from laughing hysterically at Louis’ rare show of gracelessness. Louis sits up, craning his neck to see if there’s any dirt or grass on his lower back and bum. There is, of course.

He ignores Harry’s loud honking laughter and focuses on brushing the dirt off him, but before he can get back on his feet, nearly two hundreds pounds of dog tackles him.

Apparently Watson thinks this is part of the game, as he completely throws himself onto Louis’ body. Watson outweighs Louis by quite a bit, so Louis finds that it’s actually rather difficult to breathe with this enormous dog crushing his windpipe. Harry is practically choking on his laughter now, and it only gets worse when Watson starts giving long, wet licks to Louis’ face. 

“Watson, oh my god, this is disgusting,” Louis says as Watson’s tongue spreading saliva across his cheeks, forehead, and lips. “Harry, call him off! Harry, ugh, no Watson, stop!” 

Harry is clearly trying to catch his breath from laughing so hard, so Louis dares to open one eye and gives him the fiercest look he can muster while attempting to avoid the deluge of salvia. 

“Watson, c’mon boy, get off the tiny man,” Harry says, still chuckling, but helping to pull Watson off of Louis. “You’re going to crush him to death and then his mum will be very upset with me,” Harry adds. 

Louis sits up again, using the sleeve of his hoodie to wipe the saliva off his face. When he’s mostly dry, he narrows his eyes and looks at Harry, who is sitting on the bench watching him with a huge smile on his face. Harry starts whistling and makes a show of looking in a different direction, clearly pretending he has no idea how Louis ended up on the ground. Watson is gnawing loudly on the ball at his feet. Apparently he feels no guilt for his actions.

“The least you can do is help me up, you arsehole,” Louis says, reaching out his hand expectantly. Harry gets to his feet, still smiling, and reaches down to pull Louis up. Louis looks up at Harry’s sweet gullible face, spends less than a second considering whether or not he should do this, and then yanks Harry down to the ground with him. 

Harry gasps in surprise as he hits the ground, but as soon as he recovers from getting the wind knocked out of him, he pounces on Louis. Harry and Louis have wrestled plenty of times, and though Harry is larger and stronger, nobody fights dirtier than Louis Tomlinson. He sends his knee into Harry’s groin and twists Harry’s nipples and yanks on his curls as Harry rolls around with him, trying desperately to get the upper hand despite Louis’ tricks.

They’re both panting and laughing enough that it’s a bit difficult to breathe and even harder to wrestle, but after the second time Louis twists Harry’s right nipple, Harry gets fed up and finally manages to pin Louis underneath him. 

“You’re the most annoying person I’ve ever known,” Harry says as Louis wiggles around, trying to free himself. Louis leans up and gives a long, wet lick to Harry’s cheek, which, while disgusting to carry out, provides a similar effect to Watson mauling Louis several minutes earlier while Harry looked on.

Harry makes a sound of disgust and moves his head back until it’s out of reach of Louis’ tongue, but he keeps Louis pinned by the wrists and uses all his weight to keep Louis from wiggling free. 

“This isn’t over,” Louis says, once again trying to yank his wrists free from Harry’s hold. 

“Looks over to me,” Harry says smugly, dimpling as he looks down at Louis. 

Louis makes a small choking noise and schools his face into a desperate expression, watching as Harry’s brows furrow. 

“Harry, please,” Louis says in a raspy voice. “I seriously can’t breathe. Can you get off of me?” 

Harry immediately looks concerned. He removes his hands from Louis’ wrists and starts to lift the weight from his hips and torso, but as soon as Louis’ hands are free, he uses his fingers on one hand to twist Harry’s nipple before he’s managed to get off of Louis. Louis twists it hard.

“You fucking brat,” Harry says, immediately grabbing his hands a second time and returning his weight onto Louis, but Louis is laughing too hard to care.

“You made it so easy,” Louis says, shrugging his shoulders slightly and ignoring the tickle of grass on his ears and neck. He watches Harry’s face with a smirk while Harry tries to think of a comeback.

Harry opens his mouth, finally ready with some rude retort, and that’s when Watson decides that he’s done with Harry and Louis playing in the grass without him. He trots over to them and immediately sets about bathing both of their faces in licks, moving from Harry’s face to Louis’ face and then back again. Harry finally rolls off of Louis and they both set about trying to keep Watson’s tongue at bay, but they’re laughing too hard to accomplish much. When Watson finally wanders away to examine a bird nearby, Harry and Louis look at each other.

They’re both sitting in the grass, hair disheveled, faces wet with dog saliva, and clothes covered in grass and dirt. They look a mess, but Harry’s cheeks are rosy from laughter and all the stress of Louis’ workday has melted out of his body. 

After Louis waves goodbye to Watson and Harry, he smiles the entire tube ride home. 

 

*

 

The spare bedroom that Harry converted into his office and part-time dark room isn’t very dark at the moment, Louis observes. If it were, Harry would have shooed Louis out of the room instead of allowing him to walk in with a bowl of grapes, lean against the wall, and begin throwing the fruit into his mouth one by one. It’s very rare that Louis is permitted in this particular area of Harry’s flat, so he appreciates the rarity for what it is.

The lights are all on and the blackout shade on the lone window is rolled up, bringing the gloomy London skies outside into view. While Louis munches quietly, Harry is sitting at his desk filling out paperwork and filing away photos from his most recent two photoshoots. The first consists of engagement photos, and the second consists of business headshots of the employees at some law firm. 

Louis tosses another grape toward his mouth and it misses, bouncing off his lip and falling to the floor with a soft plop. Harry finally looks at Louis then, breaking focus for a moment.

“Enjoying the grapes?” He says, sounding pleased. He’s probably just happy that Louis didn’t take his last banana.

Louis throws the next grape at Harry’s face, but Harry knows him too well. He leans forward out of his chair just far enough to catch it in his mouth. When Louis scoffs, Harry gives him a wide grin and chews the grape obnoxiously. By the time he’s swallowed the fruit, his attention is already back on his work and Louis has to find entertainment elsewhere.

He wanders around the room for a few minutes, slowly examining the photographs that Harry has chosen to hang all over the walls. Louis believes every photo Harry’s ever taken is a work of art in and of itself, but the photos covering the walls in Harry’s flat are the best of the best. There are more photos of Louis than he cares to count, but there are also photos of other friends, family members, customers from the bakery, dogs that Harry sees on the street, butterflies he finds at the park, sunsets that he sees from his balcony, and countless other people, places, and things Harry has captured over the years.

Louis would love to just spend an entire weekend going through Harry’s hard drive or pouring through his albums, but Harry has a protective streak when it comes to his photos. There have been so many times that Louis has asked to see a photo after Harry’s taken it or requested to look through a particular album, but Harry usually just gives him a sly grin and shakes his head. “Depriving us of your art,” Louis always says, which Harry usually responds to with a roll of the eyes and a hand motioning in the general direction of the many photos Harry does let him see. 

When Louis is finished circling the room, he notices a stack of photo albums on the floor by the door. The simplistic style of the album covers look nothing like the ridiculous floral patterned ones Harry has lining his shelves, so Louis is curious. He nudges at the stack with the toe of his vans and manages to flip open the cover of the top album. Unsurprisingly, a photograph of Kendall and her sisters is on the very first page, smiling mockingly up at him.

“When are Kendall’s friends picking up her shit?” Louis asks without thinking, realizing as soon as the words are out that he kinda sounds like a dick. It’s probably not a good idea to be so callous about his friend’s ex-girlfriend moving out of his flat, especially since the breakup is still so fresh. 

When Louis glances over at Harry, however, he looks amused rather than devastated, so Louis assume his question wasn’t interpreted as overly harsh. Harry closes his laptop and gets to his feet, immediately sliding one of the albums from his desk into the empty spot on one of the shelves lining the wall.

“I think they said they’d be over on Friday,” Harry replies. “I’m at Barb’s until half two, so I imagine they’ll stop by sometime after that.”

Louis likes the sound of Friday. He promised Harry a lads’ night when they were at the café last week, and there’s no better time for that outing than immediately after the last remains of Harry’s relationship are cleared out of his flat for good. After that, a fun night out could be just what Harry needs. 

“Want to go out with the lads on Friday?” Louis asks. While he waits for Harry’s response, he pops the last grape into his mouth and moves his hands up to fuss with the strands of hair that may have gotten displaced during his grape-catching adventures. 

Harry looks thoughtful for a moment. 

“For the Harry-is-single-again celebration, you mean?” He asks.

Louis cringes somewhat at the phrasing. He knows that he has a fine line to walk at the moment, and when Harry says things like that, it makes Louis worry that he and the other lads aren’t doing a good enough job. 

They can’t be too excited about the breakup, as it’s obviously a rough time for Harry, but they also can’t be too devastated about the breakup, as they don’t want to drag Harry’s mood down further. Louis is usually great at walking that line when his friends have relationship problems or breakups, but Harry is an exception to every rule. In this case, the struggle is because Louis’ own emotions are up and down.

He splits his time between feeling happy that the love of his life is single and feeling upset that his best friend just lost his girlfriend of three years. And since the time that Louis spends feeling happy about Harry and Kendall’s breakup also comes with feelings of horrible guilt over having those emotions in the first place, Louis has his own rollercoaster to deal with at the moment. Louis is a mess who’s trying to keep Harry from being a mess. 

“Mate, it’s not that we want to celebrate you and Kendall ending. I just — well, I figured we could celebrate your fresh start and have some fun, just the five of us, just like old times. It could get your mind off things, you know? “

Harry smiles fondly at him. “Relax, Lou, I know what you mean. And yes, we should go out Friday as long as Zayn, Liam, and Niall are up for it. I could use a distraction at the moment.” 

Relief trickles through Louis’ veins, followed immediately by excitement. It’s been a long time since they’ve had a night out with just the lads, and while the circumstances aren’t ideal, Louis knows that he and his friends will have no problem cheering Harry up. 

If a distraction is what Harry needs, a distraction is what he’ll get.

 

* 

 

“You look hot,” Zayn says, nodding approvingly at Louis’ outfit. “Planning on pulling tonight?”

Louis shrugs on his jacket and starts searching underneath and between the sofa cushions for his keys, as they seem to have fallen out of his pocket while he was waiting for Zayn to finish getting ready. He grimaces as his fingertips brush against crumbs and what he suspects is an old sock of Zayn’s, but when they finally grasp metal, Louis pulls the keys free easily.

“Tonight is for Harry, you prick,” Louis says. “I’m not planning on pulling and actually, thanks for the reminder to text Niall and tell him that he’d better not either. We made this a lads’ night for a reason.” Louis assumes that Niall will ignore Louis’ request and flirt shamelessly as soon as he starts drinking, but it never hurts to try.

Zayn looks at Louis skeptically and raises one perfectly groomed eyebrow before walking toward the front door without bothering to ask Louis if he’s ready to go. Used to it, Louis simply pulls his phone from his pocket and shoots Niall a prematurely scolding text as he follows Zayn, flicking the light switch off on his way out. 

The club is already packed by the time Louis and Zayn arrive, but Louis knows that the early birds, Niall and Liam, will have snagged them seats in a dark corner. Sure enough, by the time Louis and Zayn make it through the queue, Niall and Liam are at least one pint deep and laughing on a brightly colored sofa not far from the bar. Harry texted Louis to tell him that he’s still in the queue to enter, so Louis takes the opportunity to buy a round of shots for the boys and two pints for himself and Harry.

With Liam’s assistance, Louis gets all the drinks laid out on the table by the time Harry approaches. He looks incredible, curls smooth and sheer shirt unbuttoned to his navel. Louis accidentally bites his tongue when he sees him. 

“The man of the evening!” Louis exclaims, gesturing dramatically toward Harry. 

Harry laughs and does a mock curtsy, and when his eyes meet Louis’, they’re sparkling. He sits down between Louis and Niall, and even with the darkness and flashing lights of the club, Louis can see that Harry looks much better rested and more relaxed than he did the last time Louis saw him. The circles under his eyes have faded and his usual healthy coloring is back. Louis knows today must have been difficult for Harry, what with having to watch friends of his ex remove her belongings from his flat, but he’s glad Harry doesn’t seem too upset.

“How are you, Harry?” Liam asks, interrupting Louis’ brief assessment of Harry’s general health and happiness level. Other than one brief coffee outing with Niall, Harry has only really spent time with Louis since the breakup. Louis and Harry’s friendship has been bulletproof for years, but Louis’ heart still warms knowing that Harry chooses to spend time with him more than everyone else in his life. Harry may not return Louis’ feelings, but it’s obvious that he values Louis’ friendship immensely. Louis is very grateful for that.

Harry shrugs and gives a self-deprecating smile. “I’m doing okay, all things considered,” he says. “Glad I’ve got my best friends here to buy me drinks though,” he adds, elbowing Louis in the side. “Especially Louis.”

When Louis starts whining about assumptions, poverty, and selfishness, Harry gives a pointed look at the pint and shot glass sitting in front of his seat, already paid for and waiting for him. Louis grins and breaks the eye contact, leaning forward so he can wiggle his eyebrows at Niall.

“Bottoms up!” Niall shouts, reaching for his shot glass and giving the other four men a chance to do the same.

Liam is eyeing the alcohol with distaste, but Harry has a big smile on his face and that’s what matters. Louis smiles and clinks his glass against Harry’s, watching as the other boys cheers him as well. 

“Cheers!” He says, forcing the alcohol back and wincing in the manliest way possible. Niall immediately gets up to get himself another drink, unfazed by the alcohol entirely, while Liam wrinkles his nose and takes a large sip of water. Harry and Zayn are on Louis’ level, so they recover fairly quickly and grin at each other, excited for the night ahead. 

“Liam, if you’re this whiney about your first shot, you need to pull it together. Especially ‘cause the next round is going to be tequila,” Louis says with a smirk, reaching across the table to pinch Liam’s nipple and dodging his slap. Liam groans, well aware that he’s in for a long night. 

“Kendall all moved out?” Zayn asks, sipping tentatively at the oddly colored drink he fetched from the bar when they arrived. Louis gives him a warning look, not wanting any of them to force Harry to think or talk about topics that might make him upset. The point of tonight is to have fun, and randomly throwing Kendall and the breakup into the conversation might ruin Harry’s mood or his night entirely.

Harry squeezes Louis’ knee under the table reassuringly before responding. “Yeah, her friends grabbed the last of her stuff today. I was a bit worried that it’d be really empty without her furniture and clothes, but Gems and I went shopping a few times in the last week,” he explains.

Louis gives an exaggerated groan, having had plenty of experience shopping with Gemma and Harry. “You two always pick out the most terrible pieces when you’re together,” he accuses, dreading whatever furniture and knick-knacks the siblings purchased to help fill the space left behind by Kendall. “That ridiculous lamp in your living room is the perfect example.”

Harry’s mouth drops open. “First of all, it’s ironic that you’d say any of that when I’m the person who had to persuade you not to spend one month’s salary on a life-sized sculpture of Captain America. Second of all, that lamp is not ridiculous,” Harry says, offended. “Just because you always have dick on the mind doesn’t mean everyone does. The phallic shape isn’t that noticeable, and even if it was, it’s a piece of art. Art should be respected.” Harry looks over at Zayn, clearly hoping for support on that point.

Zayn looks from Harry, to Louis, and then back at Harry. Finally, he turns and starts talking to Liam as though he hadn’t heard a word. Zayn tends to provide a non-response to arguments between Louis and Harry by ignoring them entirely. In this particular case, Louis is grateful Zayn won’t back Harry up. 

“You two always fight like a married couple, you know that?” Niall asks, taking another big sip of his beer. Louis and Harry look at each other and roll their eyes.

“Yeah, we’ve heard it mentioned once...or twice...or every day of our lives, but thanks for pointing it out again, Nialler,” Louis says, raising his pint glass in a mock toast. When he glances at Harry in his peripheral vision, he can see Harry smiling into his glass. 

Niall snorts and takes another sip.

 

* 

 

Two hours later, Louis is drunk. They’re all drunk, actually, some more than others, as Niall just spent twenty minutes trying to pull a woman who finally politely (more politely than Niall deserved, probably) informed him that she wasn’t picking up what he was putting down. When the poor woman’s girlfriend returned, complaining about the long wait at the bar, Niall bolted, face and ears flaming red with embarrassment.

Liam and Zayn are drunkenly giggling over something off to the side when Louis decides it’s time to drag Harry onto the dance floor. Harry is definitely having fun, swaying along to the music and downing drinks like there’s no tomorrow, but the alcohol thrumming through Louis’ bloodstream demands more movement.

“C’mon, let’s dance,” Louis says suddenly, grabbing Harry’s arm and leading him through the crowd until he finds a spot that will give them room to dance and breathe. The song blasting is poppy and fun, and while Louis recognizes it from the radio, he doesn’t know any of the words.

“How long has it been since you danced, Harold?” Louis asks, letting Harry pull him in by the hips so they can sway face to face. They usually all go to clubs at least once a month, but Harry and Kendall skipped the last several outings. Louis misses Harry when he’s not there, though he will admit that it’s much easier for Louis to get laid when Harry has other plans. Whenever Harry is around, Louis’ attention is frequently directed his way, and that makes it difficult for him to notice anyone who might actually be interested in him. Sometimes the other lads give Louis a heads up that there’s a guy staring at him or approaching, but Harry always says he hadn’t noticed. 

“A while,” Harry admits, sliding one of his hands back to squeeze at Louis’ bum. Louis squeaks in surprise, but Harry doesn’t call him out for it. “I remember how this whole dancing thing goes though, I think,” Harry says cheekily, throwing in a wink for good measure.

Louis smiles at that, but he can already feel himself getting worked up. When Harry returns his hands to Louis’ hips, he hikes up Louis’ shirt just enough for his large fingers to settle there, skin to skin. Considering Louis and Harry have always been extremely cuddly and physical in their interactions, Louis blames the alcohol for the fact that even the slightest touch from Harry is affecting him so much.

When Louis reopens his eyes, he notices that Harry doesn’t look even half as overwhelmed as Louis feels. It’s not surprising, of course, since Harry considers any and all body contact between himself and Louis strictly platonic. Tonight, however, as Louis feels desire and alcohol and heat swirling through his body, he wants nothing more than to push Harry, to rile him up just a little, to make him feel even just a dose of the desperation Louis feels all the time.

“Kendall isn’t quite as blessed in this area,” Louis says suddenly, moving Harry’s hands back to his bum for emphasis before he has time to think about what he’s doing.

Of course, Louis probably should have guessed that Harry is probably the only person on the planet who can beat him at his own game. When Harry digs his fingers in and squeezes slightly, Louis has to bite his tongue to keep from making a noise. He remembers too late that he shouldn’t mention Kendall, but Harry doesn’t seem to notice, eyes dark.

“That’s for damn sure,” Harry says, and he keeps his hands on Louis’ arse while their bodies gyrate mindlessly to the music. Louis tries to use his limited focus to pay attention to anything other than the feeling of Harry’s groin pressing against his, Harry’s muscles beneath his hands, Harry’s hands so close to where he wants them most.

Harry’s curls are slightly damp now, pushed back from his face, and sweat beads on his forehead. He has a dusting of stubble covering his upper lip, an indication that he hasn’t shaved in a while. Beneath the stubble are Harry’s lips, pink and more appealing than Louis cares to admit.

When Louis finally forces his eyes back up to meet Harry’s, he’s surprised to see Harry’s gaze snap away from his mouth. 

Louis doesn’t even have time to think about why that happened before Harry is leaning in. 

“Turn around,” he says quietly, his warm breath sending shivers across Louis’ sweat-soaked skin.

Louis follows the command, spinning his body around and trying not to jerk away in surprise when Harry puts his hands over Louis’ hipbones, pulling his body back toward Harry’s.

It’s not the first time that he and Harry have danced together like this, but it’s the first time that Louis feels out of control. He feels like he’s crawling out of his skin just from Harry’s hands on his body, breath on his neck, sweat on his skin, and he doesn’t know how to pull himself together.

Harry tries to guide Louis’ hips to the beat at first, but Louis knows how to grind up on hot guys. He’s done it plenty of times in the past, and he doesn’t plan on letting Harry take control. This arena is Louis’ — he knows how to sway his hips with the beat and he certainly knows how to push his bum back into someone’s groin to get them hot and bothered. Louis was blessed with this arse and he’s never been one to let it go to waste.

Louis moves his hips in a slow grind backwards, and he can’t help but smirk when he hears Harry lose his breath. He’s not going to go as wild as he does when he plans on pulling, of course, but he’ll use his curves to his advantage.

Harry’s breath is hot on his neck and Louis can feel his shirt sticking to his skin, but he doesn’t move away. Harry’s hands are big and consuming, stroking gently across Louis’ tummy, hips, and waist. Every touch sends sparks flying across his skin, and it’s never been like this between them before. It’s too fucking much.

When Louis grinds his hips back again, he can feel Harry’s erection more obviously pressing against him, and he has to bite his lip to keep from moaning at the feeling of it.

 _It’s just a natural reaction,_ Louis reminds himself. Harry probably hasn’t gotten laid in a while, what with the fighting with his girlfriend stuff and then his newfound bachelorhood. Any man would be turned on when someone with Louis’ arse grinds up against his dick. It’s a meaningless bodily reaction, and Louis despises the hope blooming in his chest.

When Harry’s lips touch his neck, his heart skips a beat. What he should do is step away from Harry and let them both calm down, but muscle memory has Louis bending his neck to provide better access. Harry leans in and kisses the skin, a barely-there kiss that still manages to raise goosebumps across Louis’ skin. 

When Harry digs his teeth into the side of Louis’ neck, Louis can’t help the full body shudder that results. Harry licks over it, soothing the overheated a skin, and Louis gasps in surprise. The thumping bass drowns out most soft noises in the club, but Harry is close enough to hear Louis. He pulls back. 

Louis feels his face burning with embarrassment from how turned on he became so quickly, even with alcohol slowing his reactions, and he decides that now is the time to break out of Harry’s hold and return to their friends like nothing happened. He’s just starting to move Harry’s hands off of him when he finds himself being spun around. 

Louis barely even has time to find his center of gravity again before Harry’s lips land on his, soft and insistent. 

The moment itself seems to happen in slow motion, but it only takes him half a second to start kissing back. Harry’s mouth tastes like the tequila and lime they had before coming out to the dance floor, and Louis swears he can taste the sweat beading on his upper lip. Louis and Harry have never kissed before, not even as a joke or for a dare, and now Louis feels grateful for that. It makes this mean that much more, and Louis has no idea what’s going to happen when they back away from each other, but for now, he wants to appreciate the feeling. 

Louis’ fingers are threading their way through the curls at the back of Harry’s neck when someone bumps into them, knocking them both off balance for a second and splashing a drink all over the side of Harry’s shirt. They both jerk away from each other in surprise, eyes falling upon the man responsible as he wanders away, too drunk to realize that anything even happened.

“Fuck,” Harry mutters, brushing some of the excess liquid off his shirt with one hand. Louis tries to arrange his expression into something more sympathetic than turned on, but when Harry looks at him, his blown pupils make it clear that Louis isn’t alone in how caught up he got in the moment.

Harry visibly sighs before nodding his head in the direction of the loo.

“I’m gonna go clean this up,” he says, and Louis nods. He watches Harry walk away and takes a few seconds to just listen to the pounding of his heartbeat in his ears, loud enough that it almost drowns out the thumping bass.

Louis stands there for another minute or so, so caught up in his own thoughts that he doesn’t notice or care that people jostling him in their drunken state. 

He and Harry just danced and Harry got hard and Harry kissed him and Louis has no fucking idea how any of that happened, but it did. Louis knows that the easiest course of action would be to turn around, find the other lads, and forget it all, but a nagging feeling of guilt starts edging out the adrenaline coursing through his veins.

Louis and Harry are both drunk, but Harry is emotionally vulnerable and may not have even fully realized what he was doing. Louis should have stopped Harry before he did something he regrets, but he was too caught up in his own unrequited love and selfishness to act in the interests of his best friend. 

This was supposed to be a night where Harry was distracted by how much fun he was having, not one where Harry was distracted by the fact that he accidentally kissed a close friend that he doesn’t have feelings for. 

Louis stands on his tiptoes to see over some of the crowd and scans the room. It only takes him a few seconds to spot Niall making out with someone by the front door, and his eyes eventually fall upon Liam and Zayn, who are talking to a group of people by the bar. None of them have noticed that something monumental just shifted in the universe, but Louis can’t pretend that it didn’t happen. He needs to go apologize to Harry before this causes problems.

The loo isn’t far from where Harry and Louis had been dancing, so it only takes him about thirty seconds of weaving through dancing bodies to reach the door. A man almost ploughs Louis down while exiting, drunkenly swaying on his feet, but once Louis regains his balance and the man is out of sight, he pushes the door open.

The stalls are all empty, and the only person in the small room is Harry, who appears to using his hands to carefully rub water on the stain covering the expensive blouse. When Harry hears the door close, he glances up and sees Louis’ reflection behind him in the mirror.

“How’s the shirt?” Louis asks, voice careful. Harry turns around, wiping his wet hands off on his jeans.

“It’ll survive the trauma. Probably.” Harry smiles slightly. He closes the gap between them, only a few steps, and before Louis knows it, Harry’s face is close enough that he could lean in easily. He doesn’t. 

“Uh, glad to hear it,” he says softly, unsure as to why he’s not speaking in a normal tone of voice, but somehow feeling like it would snap them out of whatever trance they’re been in since they walked out onto the dance floor. 

Louis doesn’t say anything while Harry studies his face, though there’s an apology on the tip of his tongue. 

He doesn’t know what’s happening, but the air around them feels charged in a way that it never has before. There’s always been a special chemistry between Louis and Harry, one that frequently makes people think they’re dating or at least sleeping together, but there was never intent before this moment. There was never intent because Harry had someone else and wasn’t interested, and because Louis knew Harry had someone else and wasn’t interested. 

When Harry leans in, Louis is expecting it. His apology falls off his tongue just as his eyes flutter closed. When their mouths touch, Louis hates that it’s just like the romance films and books always say. Louis feels like he could get drunk off of Harry and never have a drop of liquor again, feels like he could write sonnets about this moment, feels like he could break out in song if he ever manages to pull away. Zayn would probably throw up if Louis ever voiced any of that out loud, but it’s honestly how he feels after four long years of wishing for this.

Harry backs Louis against the wall and moves his hands up to cradle Louis’ face, and the kiss is somehow both a thousand times more gentle and a thousand times more intense than the one they shared on the dance floor.

They’re both still hard, just from their previous interaction on the dance floor and their mouths touching again, just from the invisible sparks sizzling through the air, and it’s very obvious when they press their hips together. There’s something overwhelming about this kiss, and Louis never thought it would be possible, but the idea of doing anything more than this feels like it would be too much, too overwhelming.

Louis doesn’t know how long they stand there kissing before the door swings open again. They break apart slightly, startled, and when he sees that it’s Niall standing there, Harry takes a full step back so that no part of his body is touching Louis’ where he remains backed against the wall. Harry’s lips are slightly swollen, and Louis knows that if he could look at his own reflection right now, his would look the same. He presses a hand to his chest as though it could still his rapidly beating heart and tries to arrange his expression into something neutral. 

“Oh, nice, you’re both in here,” Niall says loudly, clearly having passed the threshold of tipsy to drunk. He has lipstick smeared on his face, and Louis would laugh at that if his heart weren’t occupying his throat. 

“Zayn left and Gigi’s meeting him at your place, so you might want to crash at mine or Harry’s flat,” Niall says. He makes an obscene gesture, clearly meant to demonstrate what Zayn and Gigi will be doing, and laughs. Harry offers a small chuckle and Louis doesn’t even manage that, but Niall is far too drunk to notice anything out of the ordinary.

“You’re disgusting, my small Irish friend,” Harry says, opening the door for Niall and glancing back at Louis with his eyebrows up toward his hairline. Louis follows them out as Niall starts berating Harry for calling him small just like Louis would, but it doesn’t take long for him to get distracted and move onto another rant. 

As they head to the bar to close out their tabs, Niall is scooped away by the woman he had been with earlier. This one seems to actually be interested in men, and Niall winks as he walks away. Louis rolls his eyes. 

“Guess you’ll be staying with me tonight,” Harry says, and Louis nods. When they reach the bar, Louis is surprised to see Harry wave the barman over for one more set of shots. “We should close off the night with a bang, right?” He asks. “Besides, you bought me too many drinks tonight. Now I’m buying one for you.”

Louis isn’t one to say no to free alcohol, so he accepts the shot without protest. Harry seems to have no issue with what just transpired in the bathroom and on the dance floor before that, but he also doesn’t seem to have any interest in talking about it, so Louis just goes along with it.

“Cheers to a night of distractions and fun,” Harry says, raising his shot glass to clink against Louis’ softly. 

“Cheers,” Louis says softly, ignoring the hurt that floods his body at Harry using the words “distractions” and “fun” considering what happened less than five minutes earlier.

When the alcohol burns in his throat, Louis definitely does not think about Harry’s lips on his.

 

* 

 

Louis wakes up to an arm thrown over his back and a puddle of drool under his chin. He groans and rolls out from under the arm, which he quickly identifies as belonging to Harry Styles. Louis doesn’t have to check under the sheets to know that Harry is naked beneath them. 

“Wake up,” Louis says, poking Harry in the side. Harry’s eyelids flutter, but do not open. “Wake up,” Louis repeats, louder this time, poking his finger into Harry’s side harder. Harry opens one eye.

“What do you want from me?” He asks, voice raspy from overuse the night before. Louis ignores how that sex voice goes straight to his cock. Considering Harry is currently naked and Louis himself is dressed in only boxers and a t-shirt, now is really not the time.

“I’m hungover,” he says, whining slightly. “Make me breakfast, please.”

Harry groans and pulls a pillow over his face, but he lifts it off after a few seconds later to speak. “You come into my flat, my bedroom, my bed, and dare make these types of demands.” 

Louis just sits cross-legged on the bed and stares at Harry until he looks back at him. As soon as they make eye contact, Harry knows exactly what Louis is doing. They stare at each other for over a minute straight before Harry gives in and blinks, immediately groaning at his loss. Louis laughs slightly maniacally and gets out of bed, abandoning Harry and his bedroom in favor of the kitchen.

“You lose, as usual, and you’re making breakfast. Put some pants on and come out here!” He calls out, and he doesn’t bother containing his smile when he hears Harry muttering curse words to himself in the other room. 

While Louis waits for him to get dressed, he tries to tidy up his bed head using the reflection on a spoon, but he’s pretty sure he only ends up making the hair situation worse. 

When Harry emerges from the bedroom a few minutes later, he’s wearing a pair of pants that leave little to the imagination. Thankfully, Louis has been friends with Harry long enough that it doesn’t even affect him. Much. 

He hops onto the kitchen counter and chats while Harry whips up a quick and tasty English breakfast.

They eat on the sofa while they watch the news, and Louis feels his hangover headache fading a little more with every greasy bite. He doesn’t know how much they drank last night, but he only vaguely recalls the taxi ride back to Harry’s flat. He remembers stripping off his clothes and falling face first into Harry’s bed, but he couldn’t tell you how they got from the taxi into the flat. He could have ridden on Harry’s back up the stairs, he could have been pushed up in a wheelbarrow, he could have flown — nothing would surprise him, but the world will never know.

Louis goes to the toilet while Harry clears their plates, and he’s surprised to see Harry’s top from the night before soaking in the sink. He’s not sure how much that blouse cost, but he’d bet that it’s too expensive for this treatment.

“Why is your shirt soaking in the sink?” Louis calls out, exiting the loo with the wet shirt in his hand. 

Harry turns around and stares at the shirt in Louis’ hand with a frown.

That’s when Louis remembers. Shots. Dancing. Grinding. Kissing. Spilling. More kissing. More shots. Everything comes back in flashes, but it’s enough to know that he and Harry made out twice in that club. Louis swallows and makes eye contact with Harry, and he can tell from the look on Harry’s face that he just remembered what happened too. 

“We...” Harry starts before trailing off. 

Louis returns the dripping shirt to the sink and leaves the toilet again, swallowing.

“I’m sorry,” he says, not sure how to even begin apologizing for what happened the night before. He was supposed to fix things after the first kiss, but instead he walked into the bathroom and threw himself at Harry a second time. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

Harry frowns again and puts down the dish he was washing.

“The memories are a bit hazy, I’ll admit, but I’m pretty sure I kissed you. Both times,” Harry says carefully.

Louis shrugs helplessly, unsure of what to say. Harry may have kissed him, but Louis kissed him back knowing that Harry just ended a relationship and wanted a fun night free of complications and hookups. Louis kissed him back knowing that while Harry’s feelings for him are platonic, his for Harry are so much deeper. 

“Louis, come over here,” Harry says softly, speaking like Louis is a spooked animal that will bolt in the opposite direction if he uses the wrong tone of voice. He’s not wrong, probably. 

Louis walks over to Harry and stops a couple of feet away, a safe distance, a distance large enough to serve as a buffer between two men who weren’t able to control themselves last night. Harry, of course, immediately eliminates that buffer by taking one large step toward Louis. 

Louis averts his eyes, not wanting to make direct eye contact with Harry when they’re this close together. He’s not sure what Harry’s about to do, and he’s also not sure whether or not he wants to find out.

When Harry puts a large hand on Louis’ jaw and gently turns his face so that Louis is looking at him, Louis’ heart rate accelerates. He looks up at Harry and reminds himself to breathe. Harry’s breath is on his face and it smells like bacon, good enough to taste, and when Harry licks his lips, Louis’ eyes fall to them automatically and he knows he’s been caught. When he brings his eyes back up to meet Harry’s, Harry leans in for the third time in less than twenty-four hours.

Louis wishes that he were strong enough to push Harry away and tell him that this is a bad idea, but he’s not. Instead, he kisses back with fervor, swiping his tongue across Harry’s bottom lip and exploring his mouth with Louis’ usual attention to detail — one that he unfortunately lacked while under the influence. Harry moves his mouth to nip at Louis’ jawline, his neck, even his earlobe, making Louis shudder. 

If Louis examined the side of his neck in the mirror more closely, he thinks he would probably be able to see the bruised evidence of Harry nibbling on his neck while they danced last night.

“Harry,” he whimpers, immediately feeling embarrassed at the sound, but guiding Harry’s lips back to his anyway. Harry shoves him toward the wall in a manner that is very reminiscent of the night before, and Louis stumbles backwards without hesitation. 

They’re making out like teenagers, and Louis isn’t sure why this is happening or how this is happening, but he loves it. Harry kisses him the way he loves to be kissed, and the fluttering that Louis feels in his chest is borderline embarrassing.

Louis would be content to stand there and let himself be kissed by Harry for hours, but it doesn’t take long for him to accidentally push his hips forward into Harry’s thigh. In that split second, Louis realizes that not only is he almost fully hard, but only two thin layers of fabric are keeping them from engaging in some serious naked grinding.

Louis is fully prepared for Harry to back away upon feeling how turned on Louis is getting, but instead, Harry simply pushes his own hips forward so Louis can feel his cock, equally aroused. Louis has seen Harry naked more times than he can count, but there’s a big difference between seeing someone’s dick and feeling their erection against you, knowing you’re responsible for it, knowing that you can take care of it if that person wants you to. 

Louis moves down to suck a love bite into the side of Harry’s neck and Harry moans unabashedly, gently grinding his hips in small circles against Louis’ body. Louis gives back as good as he’s getting until they’re both just kissing and panting into each other’s mouths, dry humping against the wall with a level of desperation usually limited to the inexperienced. Neither Harry nor Louis is inexperienced. 

Finally, Harry looks at Louis questioningly and places his hand just above the waistband of Louis’ boxers. When Louis nods frantically, Harry slowly pulls them down just enough for his erection to bob free. Once they’re past his thighs, the fabric falls easily to his ankles, and Louis steps out of them before yanking his shirt off and tossing it to the floor.

Louis pushes his hand up against Harry’s erection, which is straining the fabric of his boxers obviously enough that it has Louis’ mouth watering. He runs his knuckles gently down the line of Harry’s cock, appreciating the length and girth without even being able to see it yet. When Harry says his name in a pleading voice, Louis pulls Harry’s pants down gently.

“C’mon, Louis,” Harry says, kissing Louis again and reaching for Louis’ cock. He hasn’t actually asked for anything, but Louis knows what he wants. He takes a deep breath, fully realizing that there’s no going back from this, and reaches his hand around Harry’s cock. Louis’ hand is fairly small anyway, but it looks even smaller now. He’s hot and heavy against Louis’ palm, but it’s difficult to focus fully on memorizing the weight and feeling when Harry is stroking Louis tightly, occasionally swirling his thumb through the precome pooling at the tip. 

“I can’t, fuck, Harry, I can’t concentrate when you’re touching me like that,” Louis gasps out, resting his head against Harry’s shoulder as Harry gives him another firm stroke. He can feel his arm shaking where it’s holding onto Harry’s dick, and it’s impossible for him to focus on jerking Harry off and making it good for him when Louis feels like he’s going out of his mind from a simple handjob.

Harry just smirks and swats Louis’ hand away from his dick, leaning in to kiss him again and swallowing his moans. Louis knows he’s not going to last much longer, balls tight and stomach clenched in anticipation, but he doesn’t care. Harry’s hand is around his dick, something that Louis never thought would happen outside of his wildest dreams, and nothing else in the world matters right now.

“Gonna come?” Harry asks, taking his free hand and squeezing Louis’ arse cheek firmly. Louis nods, too overwhelmed to speak, and Harry gives him a smirk that makes Louis want to smack him. He should have known that Harry would be a cocky arsehole in bed. Or in this case, against the wall. 

Louis kisses Harry deeply to shut him up and wipe that look off his face, but it’s only a matter of seconds before he feels Harry move a dry finger from where it’s kneading the firm muscles of his arsecheek to rub against his hole. Even just the slightest hint of what Harry could be doing is too much to handle. Louis chokes out a weak moan and closes his eyes as he spills onto Harry’s hand and stomach without warning. 

Louis rests his forehead against Harry’s shoulder again as he catches his breath, and when he finally pulls it together, he lifts his head to capture Harry’s lips again. While they kiss, his fingers dance down Harry’s chest and abs until they’re low enough to wrap around Harry’s dick. Now that Harry has his full attention, Louis does his very best to make it good for him, offering firm and consistent strokes, pressing his thumb into the slit to make Harry shiver.

Harry is much quieter than Louis, but Louis doesn’t have to wonder whether or not he’s enjoying himself. Harry’s entire body is shuddering, his pupils are enormous, cheeks rosy, and it’s clear that he’s turned on beyond words at this point. Louis and Harry may not discuss their relationships with one another very often, but Louis still knows him well enough to be able to bring him right over the edge without an issue. 

Louis bites Harry’s lip and uses his left hand to fondle Harry’s nipples as he strokes him. With that, Harry gasps out Louis’ name and comes hard.

Harry takes a minute or two to catch his breath before bending over and grabbing his boxers off the floor, using them to clean himself and Louis up silently. When Harry tells him he’ll be right back and walks into the bedroom, Louis pulls up his own pants, feeling exposed and uncomfortable standing alone in the living room naked. 

Harry returns in a fresh pair of boxers and a t-shirt, and Louis still feels tense and uncertain. Those are two emotions that he rarely associates with Harry, but today is not a day like most days. Unsurprisingly, Harry immediately picks up on the tension and guides Louis over to the sofa. 

He manhandles Louis until he’s sitting on one end of the sofa sideways with his back against the armrest, and when Harry settles down next to him, he pulls Louis’ feet into his lap and affectionately pinches his big toe, making Louis twitch.

“So,” Louis says, unsure of what to say. “That was fun. Or at least, it was for me. Was it fun for you?” 

He’s never been this inarticulate in his life and he hates himself for it, but he doesn’t know how to handle this situation appropriately when his best friend of four years came in his hand less than ten minutes ago.

Harry gives him a look that clearly indicates it was, in fact, fun for him as well. 

“Okay,” Louis says, wiggling his toes in Harry’s lap. “So now what?”

Louis is often the leader around his friends, the one who makes decisions, the one that people look to when they need decisions to be made, but he’s flying blind on this one. He not only has no idea where to even begin dealing with the fact that he just got off with the love of his life, who happens to not return his feelings, but he also knows that Harry just got out of a long-term relationship and deserves to be able to call the shots on what happens next. 

“I think we should do that again,” Harry says confidently, and Louis feels his heartbeat thumping in his ears.

“Meaning...” He says, trailing off. 

Harry pinches his big toe again and Louis kicks his hand away.

“A casual thing, I guess, like a friend with benefits kind of deal. I enjoyed that, and you clearly enjoyed that, and I’m in a place right now where I could certainly use some fun and orgasms. And obviously if you’re not comfortable with that, it’s fine and I won’t be upset at all. I don’t want to make you feel like you’re obligated to hook up with me.”

As Harry speaks, Louis feels any hope he may have had crumble to pieces. Of course Harry would want a casual relationship. He didn’t take Louis out to dinner; he kissed him at a club like any random person he would pick up and then gave him a handjob against a wall of his flat. He didn’t tell Louis he had feelings for him; he told him that getting off together was fun. After they hooked up last night, Harry didn’t toast to new relationships; he toasted to distractions. 

Louis is the distraction. That’s all he is, and that’s all he will ever be when it comes to anything beyond friendship with Harry.

Louis can’t pretend that he doesn’t know exactly how a casual arrangement with Harry will end. He may not know when it will end, or what will trigger Harry to end it, or what Harry will say when it ends, but Louis still knows how it ends. 

It ends with him heartbroken and Harry moving on with someone else while Louis watches. It ends with him heartbroken and knowing that even after Harry had a taste of something more than friendship with him, it still wasn’t enough. It ends with Louis heartbroken no matter what, so he knows that the real question here is whether he is willing to deal with that.

“I just think if we’re both into it and neither of us is looking for something serious, why not?” Harry asks, eyes soft and voice sweet. He pauses and gives Louis a moment or two to answer.

There are countless reasons why Louis shouldn’t agree to this, but in the end, none of them really matter. This will end with Louis in pieces, but he’s been in love with Harry for four years. There was only ever one answer.

“Yeah,” Louis answers finally, hoping his voice sounds normal. “Why not?”

 

* 

 

Louis gets out of work late and doesn’t make it to the restaurant until after everyone else has already ordered, but he’s happy to find that Harry’s saved him a seat. 

“Hello, hello,” Louis says with a small wave as he throws himself down in the empty chair. “Sorry I’m late.“

Everyone halts their conversations to say hello, and Louis’ entire body sags with relief when he sees what might actually be the first smiling faces of his day. Work was absolutely miserable, as every employee’s mood seemed to match the dreary London weather outside, and it’s nice to be around people who still seem to have some joy in their lives. Even better that those people are his best friends in the world.

“I see Simon still has a stick up his arse and nobody to spend Friday night with,” Niall says, acknowledging Louis’ tardiness, and Louis laughs. 

“He has a girlfriend or wife or something, but Stan and I have a theory that Simon just hires her for events because nobody could actually like him enough to be with him,” Louis explains, sparking a laugh from Niall and smiles from everyone else at the table. They’ve all either heard about Simon, often on the news or from Louis’ stories, or met Simon first hand, often at work events where Louis is encouraged to invite friends to help fill the space, so they have an idea of what the man Louis has to deal with on a daily basis is like. 

As the conversations resume at the table, Louis turns his attention to Harry. Harry has a soft smile on his face when he looks back at Louis, and Louis can’t help the nervousness that erupts in his belly.

It’s been about a week and a half since Harry and Louis decided to try out their friends with benefits arrangement and they’ve only seen each other a few times since then. Everything still feels new and slightly terrifying. 

Louis is always mentally preparing for Harry to send him a text telling him that he’s met someone he’s interested in or that he’s not sure what he was thinking when he suggested they hook up. It hasn’t happened yet, but he figures it’s only a matter of time.

“How was work?” Harry asks as Louis scans the menu, immediately spotting a chicken dish that sounds appealing. He can’t remember what he ate for lunch, but he’s absolutely starving. 

“Eh,” Louis says nonchalantly, not wanting to get into it. Next to him, Harry gives a heavy sigh.

“How was your day, Harold?” Louis asks, closing his menu after a record amount of time. He hopes their waiter comes back soon so he can place his order in time to receive his food when everyone else at the table does.

Harry launches into an explanation of a customer from hell at the bakery and is just finishing up when their waiter returns with the drinks. Louis is about to catch his attention to order when Harry elbows him.

“I already ordered you the chicken stuffed with mozzarella and wrapped in parma ham, since I’m guessing that’s something you’d like,” Harry explains, and Louis smiles. This man knows him better than anyone in the world besides his mum, and Louis has known that for ages, but it still makes him feel warm inside every time Harry reminds him of it.

“Thanks,” Louis says, feeling ridiculously pleased. 

He’s been to this restaurant before once or twice, but never for dinner. The lighting is very dim and the room is fairly crowded, but the tables have an unusually large amount of space between them, which allows people to have more privacy than they would at most busy restaurants on a Friday night. As Louis takes note of his surroundings, he gets an idea.

He waits until Harry has redirected his focus to Niall before placing his hand firmly on Harry’s thigh under the table. Harry startles slightly in surprise, but he doesn’t turn his head back toward Louis, indicating a willingness to play along. Harry’s jeans are jet black and tight enough that they look painted on, and considering Harry is quite well endowed, Louis knows it won’t take much to get him visibly aroused.

He opens the drink menu in front of him and pretends to be scanning it as he inches his hand up Harry’s thigh, fingers dancing along the inseam of his jeans. Harry’s leg twitches and Louis suppresses a smile.

When his hand reaches up far enough that he can easily cup Harry’s dick, Louis looks up from the menu and glances around. Nobody’s attention is focused on what he’s doing under the table, and one glance at Niall reassures him that the Irishman can’t tell what’s happening.

Louis cups Harry’s cock through his jeans gently first, but it’s more than enough to make Harry jerk his head to look at him. When Louis looks back, eyes wide enough to look perfectly innocent, he allows Harry to catch the slight upturn of his smile. Harry swallows hard and stares at Louis while Louis palms him into hardness through the denim, only breaking the eye contact when Liam asks him a question. When Harry answers, his voice sounds deeper than usual.

Louis continues his ministrations for several minutes, fascinated by the feeling of Harry filling up under his hand, the line of Harry’s throat as he swallows, the slight dampness of sweat breaking out on his forehead. It’s distracting, really, the look and feel of Harry, and Louis loses himself in it, forgetting they’re at a table surrounded by their closest friends, forgetting they’re in public, forgetting this is completely inappropriate to be doing right now.

When Harry grabs his wrist suddenly under the table, Louis freezes, afraid that he somehow crossed a line. However, Harry simply threads his fingers through Louis’ until the tension creeps out of Louis’ body. When Harry finally looks at him, his eyes are dark and his lips are wet. 

They’re still holding hands under the table when Harry leans in. 

“Trying to make me come at the dinner table with our friends, Lou?” Harry asks, voice tickling Louis’ ear. 

This time, it’s Louis’ turn to swallow. He gives his best attempt at a nonchalant shrug, glancing around at all their friends. Zayn is giving Louis a weird look, and for a moment, Louis wonders if he and Harry are being too obvious about their new level of closeness. He and Harry have always been all over each other, however, and the two of them whispering in each others’ ears shouldn’t be anything out of the ordinary. It’s the tension, Louis realizes suddenly. He and Harry are very tense, and it’s clear that Zayn thinks they’re having some kind of argument. 

Louis shakes his head at Zayn, who frowns at him slightly, but eventually turns away. Louis breathes a sigh of relief.

Harry leans in to Louis’ ear a second time, this time making sure to graze his lips along Louis’ earlobe enough to make him shiver. “You should touch yourself,” Harry says in a deceptively casual voice. When he pulls back, Louis stares. 

Underneath the table, Harry finally returns Louis’ hand from where it’s being held hostage over Harry’s thigh. He moves it directly over Louis’ groin, where his cock is already starting to fill from sexual tension and anticipation alone, and Louis cups himself without thinking. Harry glances down and smirks at that, giving Louis’ hand a quick squeeze before lifting his glass to his lips.

Louis could ignore Harry’s words or could tell him he doesn’t want to, and Harry would drop the subject entirely without issue. Louis knows he could do either of those things easily, but he doesn’t want to. There’s something so hot about the way Harry, usually so polite, easy-going, and accommodating in his everyday life, takes control when it comes to this. After long days of Louis trying to maintain perfect control over his job, his finances, his family, and his friendships, it feels so good to just let someone else take the lead.

Louis takes a sip of ice water with his left hand as he begins to touch himself, taking care not to push his hips into the motion regardless of how much more friction he’s craving. When Liam starts talking to Louis about how someone he knows is moving to Louis’ hometown of Doncaster, Louis goes to move his hand away from his dick, but Harry subtly reaches over under the table to move it right back. Louis grits his teeth, but he continues trying to maintain his composure and respond to Liam in ways that discourage further conversation without making him suspicious.

Louis knows nobody has noticed. The only person paying any attention to what Louis is doing under the table is Harry, and Louis can see the small smile on his face out of the corner of his eye. Every time Louis shifts in his seat, desperate to reach into his trousers and thrust into his hand, Harry’s smile grows just the tiniest bit. 

Louis is close, way too close, close enough that he could literally come in his pants while seated at a restaurant, and that’s when he digs the fingers of his unoccupied hand into his own thigh.

“Harry,” he grits out in a quiet voice. “Please, I. I’m...” Louis cuts himself off. 

Harry reaches over and squeezes his thigh once before clasping a hand around Louis’ wrist, halting his motions.

“You don’t look so good, Lou,” Harry says, loudly enough that it catches the attention of most of their friends. Then he leans into Louis’ ear again, speaking only to him. “You should take care of that, don’t you think?” He whispers.

Louis glares at him.

“Yeah, I feel a bit poorly. I think I’m going to run to the toilet for a sec. Uh, just want to rinse some water on my face.” Louis says. Everyone at the table gives him a slightly odd look, but they nod and return to their conversations. The only person who doesn’t is Liam. He keeps watching Louis, face concerned, until Louis gives him a small reassuring smile.

He takes a second or two to adjust himself under the table and then leans into Harry’s ear. “You’re a fucking bastard,” he says, and he hears Harry’s laughter as he walks away.

The toilets are private in this restaurant, thankfully, and Louis is glad to see that the men’s is empty. When he gets inside, he locks the door and leans against it, finally letting himself breathe heavily. He’s too turned on to even think straight, desperately unfastening his belt and not bothering to pull his trousers down, instead simply pulling his dick out.

He gives a small whimper when he gets his hand around himself, cock hard and flushed. He jerks himself off quickly, hand striping his own cock, eyes closed tightly, and when he comes, it’s with Harry’s voice in his head and Harry’s name on his lips. 

“Fuck,” Louis mutters as he rinses his hand off. “Fuck.” When he looks at himself in the mirror, he looks like a mess. His hair is slightly damp and sticking to his forehead and his cheeks look slightly red. He thought he had the upper hand when he put his hand on Harry, but Harry flipped the tables on him without hesitation. 

Louis splashes cold water on his face in the hopes that it will make him look less wrecked, but he knows that there isn’t much he can do at this point. 

Louis is halfway back to their table when he decides to divert his course, instead ducking outside for some air and a cigarette. He walks over to the side of the building so he won’t be in the way of people entering or exiting, and in no time at all, his heart rate begins to slow. The evening air is cool on his skin and it takes him three tries to light the cigarette because of the wind, but the relaxation that courses through his body with the first inhale makes it worth it. 

Louis hasn’t been standing out there for more than five minutes when he sees Harry duck around the corner. 

Louis takes another drag of his cigarette and rolls his eyes at the smug look on Harry’s face. 

“You seem to have recovered from your sudden bout of illness,” Harry says, and Louis wants to punch him. 

Instead, he drops the cigarette on the ground and grinds it out under his foot before taking the last few steps toward Harry and pressing their lips together. Harry smiles into it, and when Louis wraps his arms around Harry’s neck, Harry clutches him just as firmly around the waist.

“Jesus Christ,” a voice says, and Louis and Harry jerk away from each other. Liam is standing there, eyes wide with shock, and Louis feels a knot forming in his stomach where butterflies had been fluttering just a moment before.

Louis and Harry look at each other nervously, unsure of what to say, but Liam speaks again.

“Are you two together?” he asks, sounding very confused.

Louis glances over at Harry and sees him shaking his head frantically. It hurts a little, but it’s not like Louis is surprised by that response. Harry never explicitly said that he wanted to keep this from their friends, but Louis has known him long enough to know what words he leaves unsaid. 

On Harry’s side, Louis knows that he doesn’t want anyone to assume that this thing with Louis is more serious than it is. On Louis’ side, he doesn’t want to deal with the lectures that come from his friends knowing he’s casually hooking up with someone that he’s been in love with for years. Keeping it a secret made sense to both of them, but now the secret is out.

When Harry speaks, he only sounds slightly uncomfortable. “We’re just having fun,” he explains, shrugging. “Hooking up with each other until we find something more serious. Just killing time, I guess.”

Harry looks to Louis for support, and now Louis feels nauseous for real.

He gives Liam a smile he knows won’t fool him. “Just killing time,” he agrees, voice quiet. 

Liam nods, not looking away from Louis’ face.

“Harry, they just brought your food out,” Liam says, finally looking over at Harry again. “I’m going to bum one of Louis’ cigarettes real quick, but please tell Soph that I’ll be back to eat in a few.” 

Harry nods, face slightly concerned as his eyes move between Louis and Liam, but Louis manages to put on his best poker face. He gives Harry a small smile, and Harry finally turns to walk back inside.

When they hear the distant sound of the front door closing, Louis speaks up before Liam has the chance to.

“I know, Payno,” Louis says, heart heavy in his chest. “It just kinda happened, and I know it’s stupid, I know that I feel way more for him than he feels for me, but that’s okay, alright? Just leave it.” 

Liam shakes his head and pulls Louis into a right hug. 

“I think this is a terrible idea, Lou, and I need you to know that.” When he pulls back, his eyes are sad.

Louis shrugs and rubs his hands over his eyes, already feeling wetness accumulating in the corners from this brief conversation. He needs to avoid being so overemotional about all of this, and he knows he’s just making things worse for himself by tearing up when Liam is right there in front of him. Just killing time, he thinks. Right.

“This is the best I’ll ever get, you know? And I’ll take it. It’s fucking pathetic, but I’ll take it, and I’ll make the best out of the situation while it exists, and when he finds someone and moves on from this, I’ll move on too. I’ll figure out how when the time comes, alright?” Louis says. “I’m a big boy, Payno. I can take care of myself, I promise.” 

Liam doesn’t look like he believes Louis, but he wraps his arm around his shoulders and leads him back into the restaurant without further comment. Louis doubts he’s heard the last of it, but he doesn’t want a discussion like this to make the evening anymore uncomfortable.

When they sit back down at the table, a genuine smile spreads across Louis’ face at the sight of his meal steaming in front of him. Harry had waited patiently for Liam and Louis to return before he began eating, polite as always, and he gives Louis a smile when Louis picks up his fork. 

“Alright?” Louis asks, unsure as to whether the incident with Liam will have an impact on their arrangement. It’s hard to believe that twenty minutes ago, Harry had Louis almost coming in his trousers, and now Louis isn’t even sure whether he and Harry will ever kiss again. 

It would be easier, probably, for this to end now, for Harry to run away as soon as someone found them out, but Louis isn’t ready for it to be over yet. He’ll never be ready for this to end, if he’s honest with himself, but the idea of a rushed kiss outside a restaurant being his and Harry’s last is too painful. 

“We’re fine,” Harry says softly, and Louis hates how reassured he feels by that response.

When Louis finally looks around the table for what feels like the first time that night, Zayn is watching them with a bite of steak paused halfway to his mouth. Louis frowns at him.

“You and Harry are fucking,” Zayn says, pointing the steak-filled fork toward Louis accusingly, eyes narrowed, and the table falls quiet instantly. It’s clear that Zayn has been paying attention to Louis and Harry over the past week and a half, likely trying to put the pieces together. Now he thinks he’s figured out what explains their weird behavior, and of course he can’t keep his big mouth shut about it.

“Oh god,” Louis says.

“Oh god,” Harry says. 

_“Oh god,”_ Liam says.

Louis buries his face in his hands. All he wanted to do was enjoy his chicken stuffed with mozzarella wrapped in parma ham, and now he’s felt someone up under the table, felt himself up under the table, gotten himself off in a restaurant toilet, been kissed outside the restaurant, been caught kissing outside the restaurant, and somehow been caught doing absolutely nothing by his flatmate inside the restaurant. Louis is never going out in public again after today.

He unburies his face from his hands when Harry starts speaking.

“Louis and I haven’t fucked yet, actually, but yeah, we are hooking up, and no, we aren’t dating, and yeah, we’re still best friends, and no, it’s not any of your business, and that’s that.” Harry says. “Also, stop stealing chips when I look in the other direction, Niall. You always take the crispiest ones and it’s obvious.” 

Everyone at the table is still gaping at them apart from Niall, who has a sheepish look on his face, but Zayn finally allows the steak on his fork to make its way into his mouth. Now that he has his confirmation, he seems largely uninterested in the conversation. Louis is going to strangle him when they get back to their flat tonight, and he realizes that he’s had several violent thoughts tonight, but he’s pretty sure nobody could blame him considering what’s happened. 

“I’m sorry,” Harry says to everyone, and Louis looks at him again. “That was rude, but I was caught off guard. Basically, Louis and I are friends with benefits and have been since that night we went clubbing, but it’s not a big deal and that’s really all there is to it. So...enjoy your meals!” 

Gigi is the first one to speak, though she looks slightly concerned by everything that just happened. “Okay,” she says cautiously. “Um, did you guys hear about the new DiCaprio film that’s coming out next week?”

And just like that, they all move on to other topics of conversation. Liam still looks worried, of course, and Niall keeps looking at Harry and Louis with a dopey grin on his face, but overall, they took the news well. Louis knows that he definitely hasn’t heard the last of this, particularly from Liam and Zayn, but for now, he’s safe.

Harry reaches for his hand under the table, and when he squeezes, Louis squeezes back. 

It’s fine. Everything will be fine.


	3. Chapter Two

Louis can honestly say that he’s never been more grateful for a casual film night in his life. He makes it a habit to never miss their Friday night gatherings unless it’s for a really good reason, but he’s not sure he would have been able to make it if everyone had decided to go to a pub or have any kind of upbeat outing, really.

Most weeks at Simon’s office are ridiculously busy, but this week has been particularly bad. Louis worked from 7AM to 7PM every night just to get a handle on everything that Simon needed him to do, and he’s pretty sure he’s going to have to put in time over the weekend as well. Simon recently decided to build some more flats in the city and has been hard at work scoping out possible areas where they can build. That means a lot of paperwork and phone calls on Louis’ part and a lot of grumpiness on Simon’s part, so Louis is exhausted.

He arrives at Niall’s flat a few minutes late because he stopped at home to change into an oversized hoodie and joggers. He knows his hair is probably messed up from the wind and normally that would mean at least fifteen minutes of primping in front of the mirror, but he doesn’t have the energy to care today.

One of Niall’s roommates opens the door and welcomes him in, standing aside so Louis can drag himself over to an empty spot on the sofa next to Harry. He hasn’t seen Harry at all this week, too busy and bone tired to hook up, and as Harry pulls him in close, he wonders idly whether he accidentally gave Harry time to find a replacement for him.

“How are you, Lou?” Harry says, voice concerned. “You look dead on your feet.”

Louis shrugs and sighs, cuddling closer into Harry’s side. He’s too tired to play aloof when all he wants is to feel Harry’s body against his, so all he can do is hope Harry doesn’t read anything into his clinginess. 

“Hard week,” he says softly, and the other boys nod sympathetically. 

“Is Simon being a prick again?” Liam asks as he approaches the sofa. He stops in front of Harry and Louis and hands Louis a biscuit. Louis takes it and thanks him, suddenly realizing that he hasn’t had time to eat since breakfast. As if on cue, his stomach growls loudly, and Louis takes a big bite to avoid answering Liam.

“Hasn’t even had time for proper meals since Sunday,” Zayn says from where he’s sitting with Gigi. He sounds angry, and Louis gives him an annoyed look for his unnecessary comment. He doesn’t need a lecture from his friends when he’s already feeling this tired and shitty.

Louis sighs again when he hears Sophia get up and start walking toward the kitchen, fussing about how they need to make Louis a sandwich or something. “I’m fine, Soph,” he calls out, but she ignores him. 

When Louis glances toward Harry, he sees that he’s frowning. 

“You’ve gotta take care of yourself, Louis,” Harry says, shaking his head. “If Simon is working you so much that you don’t even have proper time to eat, that’s not right. You make good money, but not that good. Nobody should have to work under those conditions. You can’t be your best self when you’re exhausted and hungry.”

Louis can tell that Liam is ready to launch into his own lecture about balanced diets, so he cuts him off before he can begin.

“Guys, I’ve had a shit week and I don’t need a lecture from my four dads and two mums, but thanks anyway. Please just let me relax and let’s have a good night. I appreciate your concern, but next week will be better and there’s no reason to worry, alright?” He says, making eye contact with each of his friends to make sure they’re listening. 

Harry looks like he still wants to say something else, but he bites his tongue.

When Sophia returns with a sandwich and an apple for Louis a few minutes later, he thanks her profusely and scarfs down the food before they even make it through the trailers. Out of the corner of his eye, Louis can see Harry watching him like a hawk, and he feels a trickle of irritation at that. For someone who spends a lot of time insisting that he and Louis are completely casual fuck buddies, Harry also spends a lot of time acting like an overprotective boyfriend. 

“Full now?” Harry asks when Louis puts the plate down at their feet. 

Louis suppresses his annoyance, knowing that he’s just overtired, and simply nods. 

“C’mere then,” Harry says, putting his arm up so Louis can cuddle against him again. 

“How was your day?” Louis asks quietly, not wanting to interrupt the film. He’s barely had time to text Harry all week, and he feels like a terrible friend for not keeping up with everything Harry’s up to. Sometimes working for Simon can overwhelm Louis and make him forget that anything exists outside of his miserable executive assistant job, and he’s always hated that. He wants to be a good friend and keep up with their lives, but it’s difficult sometimes.

“Good,” Harry says. “I got an unusual request for a photoshoot, actually, so that was pretty funny. I’ll tell you about it when the film is over.”

Louis nods and wiggles slightly, unsatisfied with his current position. He has one foot tucked under his body and his head resting on Harry’s shoulder, and while that would normally be very comfortable for him, his body is a strange combination of exhausted and restless. 

“Put your head on my lap and close your eyes for a bit, Lou,” Harry says quietly, moving his arm off of Louis’ shoulders. As soon as he suggests it, Louis feels his shoulders sag in relief at how perfect that sounds. His eyes are watering, begging to be closed for a while, and he wants nothing more than to give them what they want.

Harry lays a small pillow down on his lap and Louis moves his body down the sofa slightly so he can lay his head down on it. This means that none of the others can fit on this sofa unless they settle themselves on the other arm, but Louis knows nobody will mind. He lets his eyes slip closed and falls asleep within minutes.

 

* 

 

“She asked if I would do a nude photoshoot of her,” Harry says, and Liam bursts out laughing. 

“Mmmm,” Louis murmurs as he startles from sleep. It takes him a moment or two to even realize where he is, but he can see most of his friends still gathered around as the closing credits roll. 

“Oops, sorry,” Harry says from above Louis, and Louis remembers that Harry’s lap is serving as the perch for his pillow. He isn’t quite sure what Harry’s apologizing for, but when Liam echoes the sentiment a second later, he recalls that what had woken him was Liam’s bark of laughter.

Louis sits up slightly, eye bleary as they skim the room.

“You were out like a light,” Niall says from the other sofa. Louis just shrugs and yawns.

“You can go back to sleep if you want,” Harry says. “We’re gonna watch a second film and I’ll wake you up when it’s over, alright?” Louis wants to explain that it would probably be better and easier for everyone if he just went home now to go to bed, but if Harry is offering up his lap as a pillow again, he’s not going to refuse. The idea of having to get up and take the tube home is extremely unappealing at the moment, but hopefully he’ll feel more human if he naps for a little while longer.

He lays his head back down slowly and lets his eyes slip closed again, barely listening to Liam and Harry continue their conversation in hushed tones while Niall puts the next film on. 

“Wait, so why did she want you to take these photos?” Liam asks quietly, having pulled himself together after his outburst a couple of minutes earlier.

“Honestly, I don’t even know,” Harry says, and as he talks, Louis feels him put a hand on Louis’ head. Louis nuzzles into it, and he doesn’t have to see Harry’s face to know that he probably smiled at that. Harry continues, keeping his voice low enough that it doesn’t bother Louis. “She said something about wanting an artsy shoot that would show appreciation for the human body, but I’m guessing she just wanted sexy photos to give to a girlfriend or boyfriend. I don’t even understand how she got my number, but she must have thought a professional taking them would make them more classy.” 

Liam snorts. “That’s pretty weird, mate, but she did offer you a lot of money. Might be worth it,” Liam says, and Louis is too tired to pay much attention, but he still wants to smack Liam for that comment. Louis may not have a right to be possessive of Harry, but that doesn’t mean the idea of Harry out there taking naked photos of a random woman doesn’t make Louis’ stomach churn with jealousy.

Louis hears Harry simply respond with a “nah” and relaxes again. He can feel every thought in his head getting heavier as he moves closer to sleep, and he no longer cares even the slightest bit about Liam and Harry’s conversation.

“The only circumstances where I’d be willing to take naked photos of someone is if I’m in love with them,” Harry says, and Louis can feel Harry’s body shift under his head as he shrugs. Louis is too close to sleep for it to bother him, so he doesn’t try to force his eyes back open. 

“Why?” Liam asks quietly, sounding curious. 

“It’s just so intimate, you know?” Harry says quietly, gently stroking Louis’ hair while he talks. It makes Louis feel like a kitten being pet, and he’s so content that he wishes he could purr. It’s been such a long day, and Harry’s words are jumbling through his head messily alongside other random thoughts. “There are plenty of people willing to take those types of photographs for people if they want them, but I’m just not comfortable with it. It feels emotionally charged to me, and I’d rather only create that atmosphere with someone I love instead of some random person I’ve never seen before and will never see again in my life.”

“Harry Styles, erotica photographer,” Liam says, laughing. His words mesh with some things that Simon said to Louis at work and a joke about an octopus that Stan texted Louis earlier, and Louis is confused. The sleepy fog in his head is too overwhelming to bother making sense of anything at the moment.

Harry keeps stroking through Louis’ hair gently, but the rest of Harry’s words are lost to him. He’s asleep.

 

* 

 

Louis is almost too tired to drop by the bakery after work, but when Harry informs him that Barbara is there, he knows he needs to go. He hasn’t seen Barbara in a while and he misses her. Considering how often Harry begs Louis to drop by the bakery when Barbara is around so she’ll stop asking about him, Louis is fairly certain Barbara misses him too. 

When he bangs through the door loudly enough that the bell above it dings even more loudly than usual, Harry and Barbara are working together to put the finishing touches on an elaborately frosted cake. Harry’s hair is held back with a headscarf and he’s covered in flour, but he looks like he’s in a good mood. It’s not an unfamiliar scene, but it makes Louis smile regardless.

As soon as Barbara sees Louis, she shrieks in delight and rips off her gloves.

“Hello, love,” Louis says as she approaches him, grinning when she throws her arms around him. Louis isn’t particularly tall, but Barbara makes him feel like he is. She’s small and often gives the impression of being frail, though her health is great. Whenever Louis hugs Barbara, it feels like he’s hugging his grandmother. 

“Hi, darling,” she says when she pulls back, smoothing her fingers over her silver bun to check that no hair is out of place. “How are you? Harry’s been telling me that you’re stressed at work and I’ve been so worried. You know if you want to work here, there’s always a spot open for you, okay?”

Louis grins at Harry over Barbara’s shoulder. 

“Barb, you know what a disaster Louis is in the kitchen, don’t you? I don’t think you should offer him a job unless you’re ready to go out of business,” Harry says, voice light. 

Barbara makes a dismissive sound and puts her hand on Louis’ shoulder, gazing at him fondly for a moment. 

“You need to be fattened up, sweetheart,” she says suddenly, eyes raking Louis’ body. _Here we go,_ Louis thinks.

Barbara drags Louis behind the counter and begins offering him various baked goods from the display cases. When Louis looks at Harry hoping for some assistance, Harry just watches and snickers to himself. At least once a week, Barbara decides Harry needs fattening up as well. Louis knows from stories that if Harry listened to Barbara every time she suggested he eat a few more sweets at the bakery, he would probably be diabetic by now.

Louis thanks Barbara profusely and tells her that while he appreciates the offer very much, he ate just before he left work. She eyes him suspiciously, and Louis tries not to sweat under her stare. He’s not lying about eating right before leaving work, but Barbara almost manages to make him feel like he is.

When she finally breaks the eye contact, Louis breathes a sigh of relief and walks over to give Harry a quick hug. One of Harry’s curls has gone rogue and broken out from his scarf in the front, so Louis takes a second to tuck it back in. 

“You two are so sweet with each other,” Barbara says from behind them, and Louis suddenly remembers that he probably shouldn’t be so obvious about the fact that their relationship is a bit strange at the moment. He’s about to take a step back, but Harry leans down to kiss him, suggesting that he doesn’t mind being obvious at all.

The kiss is as innocent as it can get, so Louis only has a few seconds to appreciate Harry’s warm lips before they’re gone. When Harry pulls back, his eyes are smiling, and Louis has to force himself to turn away.

When he catches sight of Barbara, he sees that she has her hands clutched over her heart. She actually looks like she’s about to cry. 

“This is what I’ve wanted since the first time I met you, Louis,” Barbara says, rushing in to hug them both at the same time. “I can’t believe you two are together and you didn’t tell me,” she says when she pulls back, directing the last bit toward Harry accusingly. 

“We’re not officially together, Barb,” Harry explains, sounding very fond. “We’re just having fun.” 

Barbara looks at Harry’s face, then Louis’ face, and then Harry’s face again.

“I see,” she says, voice skeptical. Louis isn’t really sure what to say to that, so he just shrugs sheepishly. Barbara just stands there for another few seconds, eyes flitting between Harry and Louis, and then the smile on her face grows again. “Just having fun,” she echoes quietly before chuckling to herself. 

Louis looks at Harry, confused, but Harry doesn’t look like he has any idea what’s going on in Barbara’s head either.

“Louis, darling, it was so good to see you,” Barbara says, and he leans in to kiss her cheek.

“You too, Barb,” he says.

She gives Louis and Harry one last look, wide smile still stretched across her face, before retreating into her office.

 

*

 

There are only two hours left in the workday, and Louis is counting down. He has some kinks to work out in Simon’s schedule for the next two weeks, but other than that, he hasn’t had an overwhelming amount to do today. Even a normal workload feels like a treat after two weeks straight of ten or twelve hour days. 

Louis is on the phone with Simon’s driver trying to arrange pick up times when Simon emails him requesting that he come to one of the meeting rooms on the fifth floor. Considering Louis has been on hold for at least fifteen minutes, the phone call isn’t going well anyway, so he decides to just make the arrangements later. 

Louis takes the lift with the Vice President of Development & Acquisitions, who looks at Louis the way he would probably look at a piece of gum stuck to the bottom of his shoe. One of the reasons Louis wants a promotion so badly is because he’s tired of how terribly he’s treated in his current position by Simon and the various Vice Presidents throughout the organization, but alas, here he is. Louis adjusts his fringe and straightens his tie before exiting the lift, and just before he enters the meeting room, he plasters an enthusiastic look on his face.

There are about ten people in the meeting room when Louis enters, but Simon hasn’t arrived yet. Louis sits down without saying anything to anyone and takes out his phone, taking the opportunity to send out a few emails while they wait.

When Simon finally enters the room, he nods at them and settles down in a chair sitting across the table from everyone else. Louis settles back in his seat and with his notebook on his lap, ready to jot down any necessary details from Simon’s spiel. Louis assumes he’ll be announcing where he plans to build the three new flat buildings in the city, but he doesn’t know for sure.

“Hello, everyone. I wanted to call you all here so I can fill you in on where I’m planning on building the flats in London. There will be three different buildings and each has a preferred location, but as the details have not yet been ironed out completely, there’s still a chance that the locations will change. Understand?” Simon says, confirming Louis’ suspicions. Everyone around him nods.

Louis finds himself zoning out slightly as Simon explains where the first building is likely to be. He shows the flooring plans for the flats, all of which are significantly nicer and pricier than Louis can hope to afford on his salary, and then talks briefly about what amenities will be included. Louis jots down any necessary details, as always, but he’s too ready for the day to be over to be fully absorbed in everything Simon’s explaining. 

He finds himself debating whether he should propose Thai or Chinese to Harry for dinner tonight when he hears Simon mention a very familiar name.

“...some place called Barbara’s Bakery,” Simon says, and Louis immediately regrets that he hadn’t bothered listening to everything that came before those last two words.

“Sorry to interrupt, Simon, but can you repeat that?” Louis says, not caring that several people higher up in the organization direct a glare his way for not paying attention and forcing them to sit through an even longer meeting.

Simon gives a deep sigh, signaling his disappointment in Louis, but for once, Louis doesn’t care. He needs to know why Simon was talking about Harry’s workplace in a meeting regarding new flat buildings throughout London.

Simon clicks a button and sends his PowerPoint presentation back to the previous slide.

“As I was saying, the second building, Cowell Tower, will be replacing a building that current contains two small flats, Barbara’s Bakery, and some storage space that is used by the current owner. The leases for the flats and the bakery expire next month and the owner is willing to sell the property. They will simply notify the occupants that the flats will not be up for lease again. We’ll be knocking the place down and replacing it with a 12-story building that contains one flat per floor, a lobby, and a state-of-the-art gym.”

Simon continues talking after that, but all Louis hears is the roar of static in his ears. Barbara’s Bakery, the place where Harry has worked since the summer before he started uni, is going to be knocked down and replaced with one of Simon’s ridiculously expensive and tacky flat buildings. Louis doesn’t even want to think about how devastated Barbara, Sophia, and Harry are going to be when they hear what’s going to happen.

Barbara is getting on in years, and Louis knows it will be nearly impossible for her to find another location for the bakery that has an affordable rent price and is a reasonable distance from the flat she shares with her husband, who has been fighting various illnesses off and on for years. The loss of the bakery will be an unbelievable blow to her family, and that breaks Louis’ heart.

And then there’s Harry. To Harry, Louis knows the bakery has been more than just a part-time job. Harry devotes just as much time and energy to it as he does to taking photographs, despite the fact that his photography work earns him significantly more money and recognition. Harry treats Barbara like a grandmother and he would do anything for her and the bakery. Louis knows he’ll be devastated. 

Even though it’s Simon who made this decision, Louis can’t help but feel partially responsible. Harry never liked Simon and always tells Louis that he deserves a job that will let him do something he enjoys and reach his full potential, but Louis has never been willing to take the risk on something so impractical. And now, the man that Louis works for is going to be responsible for destroying Barbara’s Bakery and with it, her livelihood and one of Harry’s jobs.

The third and final building could be forcing Louis out of his own flat and he wouldn’t have noticed after that. He doesn’t listen for the rest of the meeting. Instead, his mind is too busy whirling through ideas for how the hell he’s going to tell his best friend that within a month or two, Barbara’s Bakery will no longer exist.

 

*

 

When Louis enters his flat feeling tired and emotionally drained, Harry has already let himself in with his spare key. Harry’s asleep on the sofa, feet propped up, photography book lying open on his chest, but he startles awake when the door slams closed.

“Sorry, babe,” Louis says tiredly, but Harry’s already sitting up and putting the book down. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

Louis loosens his tie and drops his bag by the door, too preoccupied by his own thoughts to notice Harry sneaking up on him. When Harry wraps his arms around him from behind and leans down to rest his head on Louis’ shoulder, he startles slightly before relaxing into it.

Louis hums and lets himself be held for a few seconds. When he turns around, Harry still looks somewhat sleepy from having just been woken, but his smile is bright. He grabs Louis’ chin and pulls him in for a kiss, and as Louis kisses back, all he wants is to curl up on Harry’s lap and cry about everything that happened at work. 

Harry deepens the kiss, slipping his tongue into Louis’ mouth without preamble and reaching his arms around to grab Louis’ bum, which has quickly become a favorite resting place for his hands regardless of what they’re doing or where they are. It makes Louis smile slightly — the first he can remember giving all day.

When Harry starts walking backwards toward the sofa, breaking the kiss every few seconds to look behind him and make sure he’s not going to trip over anything, Louis lets him. When Harry pulls Louis down on top of him on the sofa, not caring how wrinkled Louis’ work clothing are getting, Louis lets him. When Harry loosens Louis’ tie enough to pull it off entirely and starts unbuttoning his shirt, Louis lets him.

“You always look so sexy in a suit,” Harry mutters, kissing Louis again and thumbing at his nipple through his undershirt. 

“Uh huh,” Louis says absently, too busy concentrating on the feeling of Harry’s muscles contracting beneath his fingertips. His hands are shaking slightly, he realizes belatedly, but he ignores it in favor of moving his lips along Harry’s jawline. 

It’s not until Harry begins pulling Louis’ shirt out from where it’s tucked into his trousers that Louis sees him frown.

“Are you alright?” Harry asks suddenly, pulling Louis’ hands off his chest. He holds Louis’ hands in his and rubs them gently with his fingers, and it’s clear that he’s noticed something about Louis’ mood is off.

Louis retreats from Harry’s lap and crawls to the other side of the sofa. He knows he must look awful, shirt unbuttoned and untucked, face pale and nervous, fringe sweaty and tousled messily. He fixes his hair impulsively, but when Harry looks at him with questions written all over his face, he sighs and buries his face in his hands.

“Louis, you’re scaring me,” Harry says, leaning toward him so he can rub Louis’ back gently. “What happened?”

Louis doesn’t want to tell him because he doesn’t want to see his face fall, doesn’t want to have to picture Barbara’s reaction, doesn’t want to think about the bakery being replaced by some ugly monstrosity just because Simon’s a dick. He’s already decided that he’s going to do everything in his power to dissuade Simon from buying and building at that location, but he has no idea whether he’ll be able to pull it off. And in the meantime, he knows he needs to warn Harry.

“I have really bad news,” Louis says. Harry nods and keeps rubbing his back, not saying anything, just waiting for Louis to say it at his own pace. Louis takes a deep breath. “I think I mentioned that Simon was planning on building flats in three different locations in London, yeah?” 

Harry nods again, and Louis can tell his brain is whirling as he tries to figure out where this is going. Louis grits his teeth and decides to just spit the words out. Prolonging it won’t make it any easier to deal with.

“One of the locations is where Barbara’s Bakery is.” Louis says, voice quiet. Harry’s hand pauses on his back.

“What?” Harry asks, disbelief in his voice.

“Simon wants to buy the building and knock it down, Harry, I’m so sorry. I only just found out today and I don’t know if there’s anything I can do, but I’ll try to convince him not to. I’m sorry, I’m just so so sorry,” Louis says, voice pleading. 

Harry’s face flashes between shock and devastation before he buries his face in his hands. Louis just stares down at his lap and doesn’t speak, not knowing what he could even say to make it better.

“Fuck,” Harry mutters to himself, and Louis winces. 

“I’m sorry, Harry,” he says again helplessly. 

Harry exhales loudly. “You’re sure?”

Louis nods. “I’m sure about the location where he wants to build, yes. It’s not finalized though.”

Harry pinches the bridge of his nose and groans. “Fuck,” he repeats, and Louis hesitantly reaches out to grab his hand. When he does, Harry looks up and gives him a forced smile. “I know it’s not your fault and I don’t blame you, alright? Simon’s just the spawn of Satan, always has been. God, this is terrible.”

Harry may not blame Louis, but Louis can’t help but feel some responsibility for what’s going to happen to the bakery. It’s his boss who is doing this and Louis will be helping his boss do this, even if it isn’t up to Louis to make the final decisions. Louis has been playing Simon’s game since he started working at the Cowell Organization, and while there have been plenty of times that Louis has hated Simon’s selfishness, hunger for money, and thirst for power, this is the first time that it’s made him feel sick to his stomach. 

When Harry sees the look on Louis’ face, he sits back on the sofa and pulls him back into his lap gently. Louis wraps his arms around Harry’s neck. 

They just sit there for a few minutes, hugging and breathing each other in. 

“I’m already dreading telling Barb,” Harry finally mutters. Louis sits back on his lap slightly. 

“Harry, I’m going to do whatever I can to talk Simon out of this, okay? I promise,” Louis says, sticking up his pinky. Since the first day they met, this is what he and Harry have always done when they make promises to one another. The other lads always dismiss it as childish just like Louis did that first time, but it’s become tradition for Louis and Harry. 

Harry shakes his head instead of lifting his own pinky, and Louis knows it’s because he doesn’t want Louis to sabotage his own job and cordial relationship with Simon just to stop the bakery from being closed. Harry has been telling Louis to quit his job with Simon for years, but he knows that Simon isn’t a good enemy to have, particularly since he’s so well known and involved in so many industries. 

Louis grabs Harry’s right hand and locks their fingers together by force.

“No, Harry, seriously. I can’t promise that I’ll succeed, but I promise that I’ll try. I promise,” he repeats, and he catches the small smile that appears on Harry’s face when they both add the pinkies never lie in their heads. 

“Alright, Lou,” Harry says. “Thank you.” 

Louis can tell from Harry’s face that he’s already trying to come to terms with the fact that Barbara’s Bakery is going to be closed and demolished within a matter of months. Louis thought it was awful to carry the weight of the news without Harry knowing, even just for a few hours, but that has nothing on the guilty and helpless feeling eating away at him when he looks at the sad, resigned look in Harry’s eyes now that he knows.

 

* 

 

Simon has high expectations for timeliness, so when Louis got his executive assistant job just after graduating from uni, he immediately got in the habit of leaving his flat early for work just in case. Today, Louis’ commute was largely uneventful, so he arrives at the office nearly fifteen minutes early.

He’s in a surprisingly good mood considering he’s been up until midnight the last three days trying desperately to find alternative options for where Simon can put his second building, but his high spirits can probably explained by the fact that the weather is nice for the first time in days. 

The office is still largely abandoned when Louis enters. He drops his bag at his desk and turns on his laptop, immediately peeling off his suit jacket and draping it around the back of his chair. Harry may think Louis looks good in suits, but Louis is pretty sure he was born to wear skinnies or sweatpants, and that’s it. Unfortunately, that type of wardrobe really isn’t encouraged when you work at the Cowell Organization.

While Louis’ laptop turns on, he walks to the kitchen to make some tea, grateful to have a few minutes to relax before the day really gets started.

Louis enters the kitchen and sees that Stan, a member of the Development & Acquisitions team and one of his only friends at the Cowell Organization, is already making himself a cuppa. Stan turns at the sound of Louis’ footsteps and immediately breaks out in a smile, reaching up into the cabinet in front of him and pulling out Louis’ favorite mug. He pours in hot water from the kettle, and Louis brings his hands together and gives a small bow as a thank you.

“Sorry you had to come in early, mate,” Stan says as Louis reaches for a teabag. 

Louis freezes. “I’m not here much earlier than usual,” he says cautiously. “Should I have been? What happened?”

Stan glances at him worriedly. “Shit, sorry, I thought you knew. Simon changed the meeting time from 1PM to 9AM, so you need to get those packets put together before then.”

“Fuck,” Louis says, accidentally jostling his mug and sending hot water spilling onto his hand. He ignores the burning sensation and slams the mug back down on the counter. “When did he decide this?”

Stan makes a face. “About an hour ago,” he says.

Louis swears under his breath. 

“Of course,” he mutters, thanking Stan and abandoning his hopes for tea in favor of jogging back to his desk.

There are fifty-four people on the list to attend this meeting and each of the packets has fifteen pages, so Louis knows he has his work cut out for him over the next hour or so. If he doesn’t get the packets done in time, he doesn’t even want to think about the wrath he’ll face from Simon. 

Louis sends the first five pages to his printer, the second five pages to Simon’s printer (since Simon won’t be arriving at work until the meeting), and the last five pages to the main printer on their floor, hoping to speed up the process. Thankfully most of the staff members filter into the office slowly between 8 and 9AM, so he doesn’t have to knock anyone aside when he runs around collecting the sheets from different printers. 

As Louis places the pages in separate piles, ready to begin his usual system of putting packets together, he silently fumes. After what Simon is planning to do with the bakery, Louis was already nearing the end of his rope, but this just feels like the icing on the cake. He’s so tired of Simon pulling stunts like this several times a month and then expecting Louis to jump through hoops or risk dealing with one of his endless condescending lectures. Louis knows Simon would never fire him because his work ethic and attention to detail has saved Simon’s arse on numerous occasions, but Simon’s enormous ego and lack of regard for others always ends up fucking Louis over in the end. It’s exhausting. 

When Louis is about halfway through putting together the packets, he takes a short break to call Lou, the desk secretary who spends most of her time answering the phone and welcoming people who come to the office. 

“Hey Lou,” Louis greets. “Can you please go to the supply closet and grab me 54 folders for these packets? I’m kinda dying here, love, so I’d really appreciate it.” Louis glances at the clock and feels his gut twist. He starts putting the packets together one handed while he concludes the phone call.

By the time Lou brings him the folders ten minutes later, all the packets are put together and Louis is already pulling out the label maker to create name labels for the front of each folder. He will never understand why Simon makes him do this considering it’s unbelievably unnecessary, but then again, he doesn’t understand most of what Simon does.

Louis finishes with five minutes to spare. When Lou begins ushering in the businessman, Louis is setting a folder down in front of the last chair at the meeting table. Simon only enters after everyone else is seated, aiming to make a dramatic statement as always — though Louis thinks he could do with wearing an outfit that actually fits him properly if he really wants to make a good impression. Louis is just about to quietly excuse himself from where he’s been held up chatting with a longtime associate of Simon’s when he hears the boss himself call out his name. Louis flinches slightly and turns.

“Yes, Simon?” Louis asks, all eyes in the room on him. 

“I’ve got some rescheduling for you to do within the next half hour or so since you had such a slow morning. I emailed you the details,” he says, giving Louis an unkind smile. 

Louis grits his teeth and nods. Today is going to be another very long day.

 

* 

 

When Louis gets up to toss the takeout Chinese boxes in the bin, he knows it’s coming.

Harry has been tense since Louis arrived after work. Every sentence out of his mouth sounded like it was meant to be something else, but Harry is clearly holding back. As soon as Louis put down his chopstick and swallowed the last bite, however, he took one look at the other man’s face and could see the composure slipping away.

Harry is sitting straight backed on the sofa when Louis returns to the living room, and Louis just sighs and sits down a couple of feet away from him. He’d been hoping for blowjobs and a nap when he came over tonight, especially after the day he had, but clearly that was wishful thinking.

“Just spit it out, Harry,” Louis says, already irritated by whatever is coming. This is a terrible time for him to have any type of discussion because he had yet another terrible day at work and he knows he has hours of trying to save the bakery ahead of him when he goes home, but there’s clearly a lecture on the tip of Harry’s tongue and neither of them will be able to relax until it’s out. 

“I want to talk about your job,” Harry says, and Louis rolls his eyes.

“I’ve already told you that I’m doing everything I can to get Simon the fuck away from the bakery, but aside from that, there isn’t a thing to say about my job, Harry,” Louis says, warning in his voice, but Harry’s always been the one person who doesn’t heed Louis’ warnings. He opens his mouth and Louis cuts him off again. “We’re not discussing me quitting, so you’re fighting a losing battle with this one. It’d be great if you’d quit while you’re ahead, thanks.”

The tension is rolling off of Harry’s body in waves, and Louis would probably cower if he didn’t know Harry so well. For someone who is completely polite and controlled the vast majority of the time, when Harry gets angry, it can be like a dam breaking. Louis regrets all the times he complained about work to Harry over the past few weeks because he knows that those complaints are about to be used as weapons in this argument. 

“Louis, you hate the fucking job. You hate it, and you hate Simon, you have since the first day you started work there, and now look at what he’s doing with the bakery!” Harry exclaims. 

Louis doesn’t say anything. Harry sighs.

“I’m not trying to make this about the bakery,” Harry says apologetically, and he sounds as tired as Louis feels. Louis finally looks at him. “This isn’t about the bakery, or me, or Barbara, but Louis, the bakery is just another example of Simon doing things for his own gain without giving a shit about who he hurts, and you hate that. He’s done it to you so many times, and he’s done it to other people with his projects. And that’s not even getting into the fact that you’re constantly passed over for promotions and screwed over with timing and left completely exhausted and frustrated at the end of every goddamn day. You don’t deserve to feel that way, Lou. You just don’t.”

Louis feels annoyance boiling under his skin at Harry presenting this information to him like it isn’t something that he has to live every single day. Harry is throwing everything that Louis has every complained about back in his face, and it’s not fair. Louis didn’t come over today to be attacked like this.

“It’s my job, Harry. People hate their jobs all the time. We’re not all in a position where we can run around happily baking brownies and taking photos without a care in the world,” Louis says, and he can hear the anger in his voice. He’s not surprised when Harry gets to his feet.

“I’m not trying to be some ridiculous optimist, Louis, I just want you to acknowledge that you deserve better than this. Yeah, you make alright money, you can afford your flat, you can afford whatever you really need, you can help your mum out if she needs it, but he’s fucked you over for a promotion three different times. Three times!” Harry’s waving his arms now, clearly exasperated, and Louis finally stands himself.

“What, do you think I don’t know that? I’m doing the best I can, Harry. It’s not ideal, and yeah, I’m perpetually waiting on a goddamn promotion, but that’s the way it is.” Louis says, unbelievably frustrated. “I like being financially secure, alright? I like knowing that I have money when I need it or when my family needs it, and this job guarantees that.”

Harry looks like he’s about to say something, but Louis cuts him off. 

“Don’t even try to pull out the acting shit when you know there’s a one in a million chance of me ever making it. You want me to give up my job and my salary to follow dreams that will never become a reality,” he says. 

Harry runs his hand over his face, aggravation dripping from every pore. Louis and Harry so rarely have arguments like this, and when they do, it’s like fire and ice. When he was drunk a couple of years ago, Niall confessed to Louis that trying to intervene in one of their arguments is like a trying to stand in between two colliding storms. “None of us can keep up with you,” Niall had said then. “You’re in your own world and you yell a little and swear a lot, but you always manage to work things out before most of us have even figured out what you’re arguing about.”

It’s true, Louis knows. He and Harry know how to push each other’s buttons better than anyone else, but they also care about each other too much to ever let a disagreement damage their friendship. They get angry and then they figure things out. That’s always how it goes with them and Louis knows that’s how it will go this time. 

Right now, though. Right now, Louis is really fucking mad.

“You’re giving up before you even try, Louis, and that’s what makes me so angry. You don’t do that with anything else and you would never, ever, in a million years let me do that, or one of the lads do that, or one of your sisters, or your mum, but when it’s you, oh no, it’ll never happen, so why try, right?” Harry’s green eyes look fierce. 

Louis doesn’t know what to say to that. He knows what Harry’s saying is true, but he can’t admit it.

“Louis, you’re acting like you don’t have friends and family who would support you. God, if you quit and sometime down the line you ran out of money to pay for your flat, which I doubt would even happen, Zayn would cover you or you could come live with me. There are so many options if you would stop being so stubborn for a second and think about it.” Harry’s voice is pleading now, and for some reason, that makes Louis feel even more defensive.

“Oh, yeah, I could come live with you until what, you get another girlfriend or a boyfriend and then I’m out on my arse again,” Louis spits out bitterly. The words aren’t even all the way out before Louis realizes how badly he’s fucked up. He knows Harry would never kick him out. He knows that, but he can’t take the words back now that they’re out. Harry is silent for a long time.

“Is that what you think of me? You seriously think that I would kick you out like you’re nothing, like you aren’t the — like you aren’t one of the most important people in my life, like you haven’t been my best friend since the day we met?” Harry asks, voice low, and it’s clear that he’s crossed the line from exasperated to angry. Fuck. 

Louis didn’t want this fight to happen in the first place and now he’s just upset Harry for no reason.

“No, Harry,” Louis says. _I’m just jealous and I hate my job and I’m so so scared of everything crumbling to pieces,_ he thinks desperately. “I didn’t mean that, you know I didn’t mean that. I’m just being an arsehole. I’m sorry.” Louis reaches out to grasp Harry’s arm, sure that he can make Harry understand the sincerity of his apology if they aren’t so far away from one another, but Harry takes a step back.

“Look,” Harry says, running his fingers through his hair. “I have an early shift at the bakery in the morning and then a engagement photoshoot all afternoon, so I should go to sleep.”

Louis doesn’t want to leave Harry when he’s upset, but he knows Harry is extremely cranky when he doesn’t get enough sleep. One glance at the clock is more than enough to know Harry is serious about it being bedtime. 

“Okay,” Louis says, wishing he could think of something to fix this in the next fifteen seconds. He knows he can’t. “We’ll talk tomorrow, right?” 

Harry nods, but he isn’t looking at Louis and his brows are still furrowed.

Louis takes a step forward and wraps his arms around Harry’s back, hugging him tightly. Harry just stands stiffly for a moment, but he’s never been able to resist a Tommo hug. Harry gives a deep sigh before returning Louis’ hug just as enthusiastically, rubbing his hands down Louis’ back soothingly.

Finally, Louis steps back and opens the door.

“Goodnight,” Louis says. 

Harry doesn’t return the sentiment before the door closes behind him.

 

* 

 

When Zayn finally drags himself out of bed and wanders out into the living room, Louis is lying face down and has been for at least an hour. He hears Zayn’s footsteps come closer, pause, likely when he sees Louis lying on the sofa, and then move further away again as he walks to the kitchen to make breakfast. It’s past lunchtime by now, but Zayn doesn’t function on a normal schedule.

Louis listens to the clanging coming from the kitchen and remains face down, pouting into the fabric. There’s probably a damp spot where his mouth is and that’s disgusting, but Louis doesn’t care.

When Zayn finishes pouring himself what sounds like a bowl of cereal, he wanders back into the living room and sits down on Louis’ feet. 

“Ow,” Louis squawks, wiggling out from under Zayn’s bony arse. He turns onto his side and curls his body so Zayn can fit on the end of the sofa comfortable. 

“What’s your deal, bro?” Zayn asks, flicking the power button on the remote and immediately changing the channel to some ridiculous reality show. Louis can hear people screaming at each other on the telly. 

He sighs deeply, but doesn’t answer. Zayn starts poking the bottom of Louis’ feet, which he knows are very ticklish, and Louis squirms uncomfortably. 

“I may have fucked up a bit,” Louis says, turning his head to look in Zayn’s direction.

Zayn’s eyes haven’t left the telly. Louis glares at him.

Finally Zayn turns toward Louis.

“Oh, I’m sorry, is this the bit where I pretend to be surprised? Wow, Louis, I’m so surprised!” He says it in the same tone of voice he always uses, which is to say that he sounds unbelievably bored. Zayn laughs at the look on Louis’ face. “I’m just kidding, Lou. What happened? I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think,” he says, squeezing Louis’ calf comfortingly. 

Louis sighs again. “Harry wants me to quit my job and he said that if necessary, I could always stay with him. I may or may not have insinuated that he would kick me out as soon as he found his next girlfriend or boyfriend, and he may or may not have been extremely offended and hurt,” Louis says, wincing and bracing himself for whatever comes next. 

Zayn turns the telly off and motions to Louis to sit up and face him on the sofa. Louis does.

“Okay, well first of all, you should quit your job. I know you aren’t really ready to talk about that though, so I’m going to let it go for now. Second of all, your comment about Harry is blatantly untrue, which you definitely know, and it reeks of jealousy, which means that you’re already in way too fucking deep with this friends with benefits situation,” Zayn says, staring Louis down. “You never pulled that shit with me, and we both know why you’re pulling it with him.” 

Louis feels his face prickle with heat. He and Harry only recently started hooking up, but he’s already this transparent.

“We haven’t even fucked, Zayn,” Louis says, trying to keep his voice steady. “It’s not a big deal and I doubt it’ll even last very long before Harry find someone he wants to actually date. It’s fine.”

Zayn groans, sinking down into the worn cushions of their sofa. He buries his face in his hand and sits there like that for almost a full minute before finally uncovering his face and looking back toward Louis.

“Talking to you is like talking to a brick wall right now, so I’m not going to bother. All I’m going to tell you is you need to apologize, and you’d better make it good. Get your arse off this sofa and start thinking because I really don’t feel like dealing with a grumpy Harry when I see him tomorrow.”

Louis rolls his eyes and obeys, walking toward the kitchen to fetch a glass of milk. When he flings the fridge door open, his eyes fall on several containers of food from the dinner Gigi made Zayn several days before. Zayn and Gigi make meals for each other all the time, but Louis is an awful chef. His idea of gourmet home cooking is cereal and sandwiches, so when Louis wants to eat really well, he’s always relied on friends, boyfriends, or restaurants.

That’s why a homemade dinner is the perfect gesture for an apology. 

Without second though, Louis texts Harry to come to his flat for dinner around half six, giving Harry just enough time to return to his own flat and change his clothes after the engagement photoshoot. Then he returns to the living room and kicks Zayn out of the flat for the night. Louis knows he has his work cut out for him. 

 

* 

 

While Louis has a habit of ruining delicious meals and nearly burning the kitchen down when he’s set loose in the kitchen, he decides that fish and chips is something that even he can manage. And he does manage. Mostly. 

The closest thing to a major incident is when Louis nearly forgets the salt for the batter, but he catches himself at the last minute and dips the fish into a thick, creamy batter that holds all of the necessary ingredients. Louis follows directions from BBC for the homemade chips and calls his mum halfway through to double check that he’s doing everything properly, ensuring that those are a success as well. With fewer than ten minutes before Harry is due to arrive, Louis puts the finishing touches on the side dishes and sets them around the table in the dining area. 

Louis lights candles around the room, glances around nervously, and then blows them all out. Every cell in his body is screaming for him to create a romantic atmosphere, but Louis needs to remind himself that this isn’t a date. It’s nothing more than a friendship dinner intended to butter Harry up so he’ll be more willing to accept Louis’ apology. The last thing Louis wants to do is make Harry uncomfortable by making it look like Louis thinks their arrangement is anything beyond strictly casual.

When Louis takes the bowl with the leftover fish batter and walks over to the trash bin to empty it, he hears a loud knock on the door. Louis had been expecting Harry any moment, but the knock still manages to startle him. He jerks back and loses his balance slightly, and upon grasping the counter to steady himself, the bowl of batter tips and splatters onto his shirt. 

Louis puts the bowl down and glances down at his shirt sadly. Harry pounds on the door again, and Louis knows it’s too late to save this moment. He walks over to the door and flings it open.

Harry is standing in front of him dressed in a half unbuttoned blouse with polka dots, tight jeans, and boots, and he looks so good that Louis wants to take him straight into the bedroom. Louis can tell immediately that Harry has his serious face on, still upset over what Louis said the night before, but the second Harry’s eyes fall on the batter covering Louis’ front, he snorts.

Louis sighs and retreats back into the flat with Harry at his heels. He motions to the table, ignoring the mess that’s now dripping its way down his shirt to the top of his jeans. 

“I made fish and chips,” he explains, watching the huge smile light up Harry’s face as he steps over to the table and examines the food closely. “And then I had a batter incident while cleaning up,” he finishes lamely, motioning to himself.

“I thought you would just be ordering take-out,” Harry says. 

Louis shrugs. “I wanted to apologize for what I said last night and I thought this might be a good way to do it.” He stands by the door, uncomfortably aware of how ridiculous he looks right now, clothing drenched in thick batter, when Harry steps toward him. Harry has his creepy stare on, eyes boring into Louis’ intensely. He’s not even blinking. 

Louis maintains the eye contact, but he feels wary. All he wants is for Harry to forgive him so they can have a pleasant evening.

Harry grasps the bottom of Louis’ top gently and Louis nods, allowing Harry to pull the clothing over his head, leaving him shirtless and exposed. Louis shivers slightly, feeling his nipples harden.

Louis isn’t really sure where Harry is going with this since their dinner is sitting on the table ready to be eaten, but he decides to just let it happen. Harry reaches for his jeans next, still not saying anything. Louis nods and Harry pops the button through the hole and unzips Louis’ fly before pulling them down Louis’ hips, dropping down to his knees so he can pull them off of Louis’ legs when Louis lifts his feet. 

Harry’s close proximity to his dick has the potential to alter the trajectory of the night from what Louis planned, but Harry simply returns to his feet once the jeans off. Louis is standing in nothing but his boxers when Harry holds his hips and kisses him gently, licking into his mouth and nibbling his bottom lip. Louis kisses back and gasps when Harry pushes his hips into Louis’, willing himself to think about anything other than how sexy Harry is right now and how nice it is be kissed by him. 

Harry pulls away too soon, walking backwards toward the table with a smile on his face. Louis stares at him, feeling dumbfounded and turned on. 

“Go change your clothes while I pour the wine,” Harry says, voice light and happy. 

Louis rolls his eyes and grabs his messy clothing off the floor where Harry left it. He walks to his bedroom quicly, dumps the clothes in his hamper, and throws on the first pair of jeans and jumper he sees. 

When Louis makes it back into the living room, Harry has already poured the wine and filled both of their plates. He hasn’t started eating yet, of course, always the gentleman. When Louis walks by him, Harry grabs his hand. Louis pauses, about to ask if there was an issue with the wine or the food, but Harry just kisses his hand gently and looks up at him. 

“Thank you for dinner,” Harry says, and Louis leans down to peck him quickly on the lips.

“You’re welcome,” Louis responds as Harry gives him back his hand. He settles down into his chair and they both dig in. 

Louis is pleasantly surprised to find that everything tastes perfectly cooked and seasoned. Harry compliments him several times, impressed by Louis’ success after having had many experiences with Louis’ kitchen failures, and Louis can’t help the way it makes him glow with pride. 

While Harry and Louis eat, they discuss Harry’s day at his photoshoot. Harry tells Louis about how adorable the bride and groom were and gives an outline of their wedding plans, which sound bizarrely thorough to Louis considering the couple only recently got engaged. Louis assumes they’ve been planning this for a while, but it’s hard for him to imagine being in a relationship with someone and discussing wedding plans when he can’t even get the love of his life to view him as anything more than a fuck buddy. 

When Harry finishes telling the story, they enjoy a comfortable silence. Louis eats several more chips before he manages to work up the courage to risk breaking the mood.

“So does this mean I’m forgiven?” Louis asks, picking up another chip. “I apologized last night and meant it, but I’ll do it a thousand more times if that’s what you want from me. I really am sorry, Haz.” 

Harry rolls his eyes at Louis’ dramatics and hooks his ankle around Louis’ under the table. 

“Why’d you say what you did?” Harry asks, sounding calm but curious. “You don’t seriously think I would ever kick you out, even in this hypothetical scenario that probably wouldn’t even happen, regardless of my relationship status, right?”

Louis sighs and puts his elbows on the table, burying his face in his hands. 

“I don’t think that, of course I don’t think that. I was probably just feeling defensive about the job thing,” he explains, knowing it’s not quite the truth. The truth is that the thought of Harry finding someone he actually wants to be in a relationship with is a constant worry on Louis’ mind. Harry moving on from his arrangement from Louis, even though he knows it will happen eventually, is unbearable. Louis can’t admit that without admitting his feelings though, so this explanation will have to suffice.

Harry looks at Louis like he knows that he’s lying, and Louis fucking hates that. He hates that Harry can read him like a book when it comes to almost everything. Honestly, the only thing Harry hasn’t completely figured out about Louis is how Louis really feels about him, and that’s only because Louis’ put a lot of effort into hiding it.

“Okay,” Harry says simply. “I forgive you, and I appreciate the food. I still stand by what I said about your job, but I’ll drop it for a while at least. Now, tell me what you did today,” Harry commands, pouring himself another glass of wine and topping Louis’ glass off. 

Louis tries to focus on retelling the elaborate story of grocery shopping with Zayn and cooking this meal without becoming distracted by Harry’s foot gently rubbing against his leg. It’s a difficult feat, but he manages.

When they finish eating, Louis and Harry gather the plates and walk toward the kitchen. They’re silent as they clear the plates and stack them in the sink. Louis puts the last bit of leftover food away, and as soon as the fridge door closes, he finds himself pinned against it. 

Harry is kissing him before he even really knows what is happening, but it doesn’t take Louis more than half a second to figure it out and start kissing him back. It gets heated quickly, tongues intertwining and breath hot, too eager after the sad excuse for foreplay before dinner. 

“Can I fuck you tonight?” Harry asks quietly, kissing Louis again before he can give his answer. Louis pulls away and nods, butterflies erupting in his belly, before pushing Harry far enough away from him that he has room to walk. 

“Bedroom, c’mon,” Louis says, yanking Harry along with him. They strip off their clothing as they go, a shirt here, a sock there, and it will be hell to gather them all up tomorrow, but Louis couldn’t care less. 

He’s been waiting what feels like a lifetime for this — for Harry to take him to bed and take him apart. 

Louis put a half-hearted effort into cleaning his bedroom before Harry had arrived, anticipating Harry spending the night regardless whether or not they finally had sex, and he’s incredibly grateful to his past-self when they make it to the bed without tripping over anything. 

Louis lies down on the mattress and watches Harry pull off his pants, the last of his clothing, and Louis is left in only his boxers. When Harry lowers himself down on top of Louis gently, Louis’ legs fall open easily. The sound of kissing and heavy breathing is the only sound in the room until Louis starts squirming, pushing his hips up to get more friction. 

Harry moves down his body slowly and sucks slightly at the skin on his hipbones before kissing a line across his lower stomach, just above the waistband of his pants. Louis pushes his hips up again, impatient, and Harry just looks up at him and smiles. 

“How long’s it been for you?” He asks, and the room is rather dim, but Louis knows he’s smirking. 

Louis ignores him and moves his hands down to push the pants off his hips himself, not in the mood to deal with Harry’s lame idea of dirty talk, but Harry just catches Louis’ wrists with one hand. 

“It’s polite to respond when someone asks you a question, Lou. Manners are important,” Harry says, and when Louis glares down at him, his eyes look impossibly dark. It makes Louis harder, if that’s even physically possible at this point. He squirms until his wrists are free, but he doesn’t try to move the boxers down again.

“A few months, maybe,” Louis says, looking up at the ceiling instead of Harry. He keeps his hands by his sides on the bed, clutching at the sheets when he feels Harry’s breath on his erection through the fabric. 

“So not since Greg?” Harry asks, sounding genuinely curious. Louis probably only let Harry meet Greg a handful of times, though they were casually dating for several months at least. He’s actually surprised Harry remembers his name.

Louis groans, feeling awkward and very turned on. Too turned on for a drawn out conversation. 

“Yes, not since Greg, god, why does it matter? Shouldn’t you be more concerned about how long it’s been for you? You haven’t fucked a guy in like three years,” Louis says. He tries to make the words sound biting, but they come out sounding desperate. “Do you even remember how?” Louis asks, turning the sarcasm up a few more notches. 

Instead of responding, Harry yanks Louis’ pants down to his ankles and swallows him down without warning. Louis a high-pitched noise, one he probably couldn’t recreate even if he tried. Harry pulls off to smile at the sound quickly, but upon seeing Louis’ glare, he takes Louis down again.

Louis turns his head to the side and bites his own arm to stop from moaning as Harry’s alternates between mouthing the head and going as far down as he can, tongue stroking hotly down the underside of Louis’ dick. Harry is good at this, and Louis can’t stop himself from wondering if that’s because of all the practice he’s had with bananas over the years.

Harry pulls off after a few minutes and moves up Louis’ body again so that all of their bare skin is pressing together from chest to toe. Louis pulls Harry down for a wet kiss, but Harry doesn’t stay long, moving his lips to Louis’ ear instead.

“I think I remember a few things well enough, don’t you?” Harry says, breath warm enough to make Louis shudder, and Louis responds by pushing his hips up so their cocks brush together. Harry grunts slightly and reaches into Louis’ side table for the lube, already extremely familiar with where Louis keeps it from a few weeks of handjobs. 

Harry fumbles with the bottle for a few seconds before Louis yanks it out of his hand, feeling too frustrated and horny to deal with Harry’s gracelessness. He’s about to squeeze some onto Harry’s fingers when he notices that Harry’s rings are still on. Louis pauses, considering, and Harry follows his gaze. 

“Want me to leave them on?” Harry says, voice deep, breathing shallow. Louis looks up and sees that his eyebrows are raised. He doesn’t look opposed to the idea, and something in Louis’ gut turns. 

Louis responds by squeezing the lube onto his fingers, leaving the rings in place. It might be hell to clean them off later, but if Harry isn’t worried about it, neither is Louis.

“It’s been like two minutes, and you’re already driving me insane,” Harry says, kissing him. Louis just smiles against his mouth until Harry pulls away again. “Can you turn over?” Harry asks, and Louis nods. Harry moves off of him and Louis turns around, positioning himself on his hands and knees.

He feels somewhat vulnerable like that, exposed, but he doesn’t want to do missionary with Harry the first time they have sex. Louis’ brain knows that this is a casual arrangement, but if he and Harry take the opportunity to kiss and make eye contact the first time Harry’s inside him, he knows his heart will do all the talking. 

This is sex, as practical as the business transactions that Simon makes on a daily basis, and he doesn’t want to make it into anything more than it is for Harry. 

Just sex, he tells himself desperately as he feels Harry rubbing the pads of two fingers against his hole. He knows he’s very tense, but Harry just brushes a kiss against the base of his spine.

“We don’t have to if you’re not ready, Lou,” Harry says softly, moving his fingers away. Louis shakes his head.

“No, no, I want you to, Harry, please, just do it, c’mon,” Louis says, desperate to feel Harry’s fingers on him again. Harry doesn’t need to be told twice, gently push a lube-wet finger into his hole. Louis can feel the edge of Harry’s ring against his tense muscle as the finger pushes in knuckle deep, and he loves it. 

The texture of the ring is so different from that of skin or a dildo, and it makes Louis shiver in the best way. Harry’s fingers are large, but he’s gentle, and Louis already wants another.

“Another,” he demands, not daring to look over his shoulder at Harry. 

Harry chuckles behind him, but obliges, pushing a second finger in beside the first. 

Louis loves having something inside him, and it’s been a while, so he just enjoys the sensation for a few minutes before he realizes that these are Harry’s fingers. Harry, the man he’s been in love with for years, has his fingers inside Louis, and soon they’ll be replaced with his cock. Harry brushes against his prostate and Louis moans softly.

“There?” Harry asks, brushing against his prostate again, and Louis nods, hoping Harry can see him. “Feel good?” Harry asks. He knows the answer, but he still waits for Louis to nod again before he adds a third finger.

Louis moans again at the sensation of the ring at his rim as Harry stretches him wider. He’s never going to be able to look at Harry’s hands, fingers, or rings again the same after this. Harry scissors his fingers slightly, stretching him out, and when Louis’ body moves with discomfort, he just presses another kiss to his spine. 

Harry opens Louis up quickly, and Louis’ grateful for that. He’s growing more impatient every time he feels Harry’s rings brush against him and every time Harry’s fingers stroke against his prostate.

It doesn’t take much longer for both Harry and Louis to decide that he’s been sufficiently prepped. He gasps at the feeling of emptiness when Harry pulls his fingers out and wipes his fingers off on the bed, but he knows that feeling won’t last long. It takes Louis a second to realize that Harry hadn’t pulled a condom out of the drawer when he grabbed the lube, so he takes it upon himself to do it, fumbling around until he feels a wrapper. 

He listens while Harry puts the condom on and slicks himself up, and a few seconds later, Louis feels Harry lean his weight over his body. He turns his head and Harry kisses him, unconcerned about the awkward angle. It’s a long kiss, and they’re both too eager to make it good, but it’s sloppy and wet and perfect. 

“Ready?” Harry says softly, pulling away, and Louis nods before turning his head. He looks down at the bed below him as Harry brushes his cock against Louis’ hole, and he braces his arms when Harry finally pushes in. 

It’s so fucking good. It’s uncomfortable too, of course, as Harry’s definitely the biggest Louis has ever taken, but Louis’ always been a size queen, so every cell of his body is screaming with pleasure at the feeling. Louis can feel himself stretching to accommodate Harry’s cock, and it’s so hot to know that Harry is inside him, filling him up, giving him what he needs. Even if this never happens again, Louis thinks that maybe he could survive on just the memory of this. That’s how incredible it feels to have Harry moving in and out of his body for the first time. 

Harry starts out slowly, easing Louis into the stretch, so Louis squeezes down around him when he’s ready for Harry to fuck him for real. Harry gets the message, pushing in harder and faster, bracing himself over Louis’s body. They’re both sweating, and Harry keeps mouthing wetly at the back of Louis’ neck, his shoulders, and it’s on the right side of overwhelming.

Louis knows he’s being loud, but Harry seems to love it. It spurs him to go faster, harder, and when he gives one particularly hard thrust, Louis’ arms give out and he drops down onto his elbows on the bed. Harry has a firm grip on his hips, keeping his arse up in the air, but he pauses for a second to make sure that Louis is okay. 

“Just being fucked to death, it’s fine,” Louis says, out of breath, but he rests his weight on one arm so he can throw a thumb up, indicating that Harry can continue. He doesn’t even bother getting back onto his hands and knees, instead keeping his head down, arse up, not caring how ridiculous and desperate for it he must look right now. 

Harry picks up the same bruising rhythm again immediately. He isn’t leaning over Louis’ body anymore, so when Louis feels Harry spread his cheeks apart with his large hands, he knows Harry is watching himself push in and out of Louis’ arse. Just the thought of it makes Louis bite the pillow underneath him, feeling like he’s going out of his mind with pleasure.

When Harry finally reaches underneath Louis’ body to grasp his dick, Louis feels like his entire body is going to collapse. As always, Harry knows Louis almost better than Louis knows himself, so he uses his other hand to keep Louis’ hips up and steady while he continues pounding into him. 

Louis wants to cry when Harry finally starts jerking him off, grip firm and steady. He’s touching Louis at the same pace that he’s fucking into him, but as Harry’s rhythm becomes more erratic, Louis knows he can’t last much longer. Harry hits Louis’ prostate on a particularly hard thrust, and that combined with the smooth upstroke of Harry’s hand on his cock is too much to resist. Louis comes, biting down on the pillow again to keep from crying out. 

He’s already feeling sensitive, but Harry only has to thrust in a few more times before he’s coming himself with a low moan, gripping Louis’ hips hard enough that he wonders whether it will bruise. 

Louis’ senses seem to return slowly — the distant sound of traffic on the street below, the feeling of the pillow’s wet fabric, the smell of sweat. All of these details filter in one by one.

When Harry pulls out, Louis groans at the uncomfortable feeling and rolls onto his back to watch Harry pull the condom off and toss it on the floor. He’s out of breath and sweating, hair damp and chest gleaming, and he looks so fucking attractive that Louis ignores the ache blooming at the base of his spine in favor of leaning up to kiss him. 

Harry arranges them so he’s on his back with Louis half lying on top of him, and they kiss softly like that, catching their breaths and coming down off of their highs. When they finally pull back, Harry smiles and kisses Louis’ cheek. 

Louis settles his head down on Harry’s shoulder.

“That was...” Harry begins, trailing off. Louis sucks a love bite just above one of Harry’s nipples while he gentle squeezes the other, and Harry groans. “I think that may have been the best sex of my life,” he finishes, exhaling loudly. 

Louis hides his smile against Harry’s skin. He thinks about how much sex Harry has had in his life, including sex with people he dated and loved. Louis may never have Harry in the way that other people have and will in the future, and Harry may never love him, but he has this moment. 

Tonight, Louis almost manages to convince himself that it’s enough.


	4. Chapter Three

“I come bearing gifts of pizza and beer,” Louis says loudly from the hall, seeing that the flat door is already open slightly. He bumps his hip against the door to swing it open wide enough for the pizza boxes to fit through. Once inside, he stops and glances around. “Damn, didn’t realize I was entering a war zone. I forgot my helmet.”

The floor of the small flat is littered with moving boxes, making it difficult to spot a clear path to walk through. Just from first glance, Louis can see two piles of clothes by the door to the bedroom, a pile of books lying in front of the half empty bookcase, and an overflowing trash bin in the middle of the room. Harry and two people that Louis has never seen before are clearly hard at work packing.

When Harry hears Louis enter, he abandons the box he’s working on filling and stands up, wiping his hands on his jeans. He greets Louis and takes the beer and pizza from Louis’ hands, walking it over toward the small kitchen. 

Louis hears Harry opening one of the bottles on the edge of the counter and rolls his eyes. 

“Eager much?” Louis says, but Harry just walks back into the living room, puts his middle finger up, and takes a long sip. Louis huffs. The least Harry could have done is bring one of the beers to him. Louis did pay for them, after all.

Louis’ internal grumbling is cut short when someone else enters the flat and hugs him from behind.

“If it isn’t my favorite Styles sibling!” he exclaims overdramatically, spinning around to give Gemma a proper hug.

Gemma laughs and this time, Harry is the one grumbling.

“How are you, love?” Louis asks, and Gemma shrugs before flopping down on the sofa.

“I’m okay, but it feels like I’m never going to finish packing. Milena and Lexi have been helping for hours already, and Harry’s been here for a while too. I’m tired and I just want to take a nap. How did I manage to accumulate so much rubbish in one flat? It’s ridiculous.” 

Louis frowns, feeling bad that he couldn’t come earlier due to work.

“Well, I’m here now, so there will be five sets of hands instead of four,” Louis says encouragingly.

“Your hands are too small to count as a full set. Let’s just say now we have 4.5 sets of hands,” Harry speaks quietly, but he’s clearly aiming to be heard. 

Louis glares and speaks over Harry as though he hadn’t said anything at all. “I also brought pizza, including pepperoni, your favorite, and beer, for hydration purposes only, of course.” 

When Gemma smiles, Louis pokes his finger into her dimple just like he always does with her brother. Just as he intended, it makes her smile grow even larger. When Louis glances up, he sees Harry looking at them fondly.

Louis yanks Gemma up from the sofa gracelessly before rubbing his hands together.

“So, where do you want me to begin?”

Gemma and Harry exchange a look. That’s dangerous. 

When Gemma points to the piles of clothes, Louis considers bolting. The only reason he doesn’t is because Harry’s wearing trainers instead of boots and is therefore more likely to catch up to him before he reaches the tube. 

 

* 

 

Three hours later, Louis is exhausted. Gemma and Harry had him folding and packing away almost all the clothing in Gemma’s wardrobe despite the fact that Harry knows Louis hates nothing as much as he hates folding clothes. Louis offered to help Gemma move out of the kindness of his own heart and this is how they repay him. 

It’s offensive treatment, quite frankly, and that’s why Louis is giving Harry the silent treatment at the moment. Harry pulled out all the stops to get Louis to give in and speak to him, but Louis has managed to stand firm for an impressive fifteen minutes. 

Likely out of sheer frustration with Louis, Harry offered to drive the next load of Gemma’s stuff to her new flat, which is only about twenty minutes away, even with London traffic. 

Louis’ decides he may be willing to talk to Harry again when he returns, but only if Harry is very nice to him. 

Gemma’s friends had eaten the pizza and abandoned them almost immediately afterwards, which forced Louis, Harry, and Gemma to work tirelessly for hours. Despite only having the three of them, they managed to transform Gemma’s flat into a mover’s paradise quite quickly.

While Louis and Gemma await Harry’s return, they’re sprawled out on her mattress, which is currently sitting on the floor with the actual pieces of the bed leaning up against the wall by the door.

“Are you nervous to move in with Michal, or just excited?” Louis asks. He’s obviously never lived with a boyfriend before, so he’s not sure what the emotional process of making that transition is like.

Louis glances over at the woman lying next to him and sees that she has a huge sappy smile on her face.

“I’m really excited. We’ve been planning this for a while and my flat is total shit anyway. I think we’ll be great flatmates, actually. He’s really laid back, so he doesn’t get upset when I throw my clothes around,” Gemma says, elbowing Louis in a way that he knows is intended to shade him for doing the same thing.

“Hey, I’m perfectly neat all the time!” Louis says, feigning outrage. 

Gemma snorts. “Maybe I’d believe that if I’d never met you before.” 

Louis is about to launch into his own verbal self-defense when Gemma interrupts him again. “Are you going to try and tell me that Harry doesn’t pick up your clothes after you two fuck? Every time he’s over your flat at all, actually? We all know Zayn doesn’t care about tidying up either. You two would probably drown in the clothes you throw on the floor if not for Gigi and Harry existing. You should thank them for your own survival, actually. Death by laundry is a shitty way to go, I reckon.”

Louis smacks Gemma lightly on the arm. “That’s really quite offensive and I’ve never hated anyone more than you,” he says. Gemma giggles and Louis stares up at the glow-in-the-dark stars on her ceiling. 

Then his brain catches up to what Gemma just said.

“Wait, what did you say about Harry and I fucking?” Louis says, sitting up frantically.

Gemma sits up too, taking one look at Louis’ alarmed face before bursting into laughter. 

“How the fuck did you figure that out? There’s no chance in hell that Harry told you!” Louis knows that Harry would rather die a painful death than talk to his mother or sister about who he has casual sex with, even if that person is Louis. Especially if that person is Louis, actually, since both Gemma and Anne adore him.

Gemma takes a few seconds to stop laughing before taking several deep breaths so she can speak again.

“I just guessed! You two aren’t as subtle as you think you are. You both have a disgustingly fond expression on your faces when you look at each other. Harry also stares at your arse even more obviously than usual, and that’s saying something considering he used to do that all the time, even when he was still with Kendall.”

Louis groans. “Jesus,” he says, feeling embarrassed. He rubs his hand over his face.

Gemma pinches his side. “Hey, don’t worry about it. It’s not like I’m going to tell my mum. I probably won’t even let Harry know that I figured it out. He can keep thinking he’s subtle. You have to tell me though — are you two officially together, or are you just...” Gemma trails off.

Louis gives her a weak smile. “We’re just having fun,” he says, shrugging. “It’s completely casual. He just wants a distraction after Kendall, I think, and I’m single, so it worked out.” 

He tries to sound as nonchalant as possible, but when he looks over at Gemma, she’s looking at him so knowingly that he has to immediately look away again. Louis feels restless all of a sudden, so he gets up off the mattress and reaches out his hand to help Gemma up. As she grasps his hand, they hear the door to the flat open.

Louis begins to walk toward the living room, but he turns around when he doesn’t hear footsteps behind him. Gemma is reading something on her phone and looks like she’s about to sit back down on the mattress again. When she glances up and sees Louis waiting for her, she just winks at him and jerks her head toward the door. Louis rolls his eyes, but obeys her wordless command, walking out into the living room to greet Harry by himself. 

Harry is stacking several boxes by the front door, so he has his back turned to Louis. Louis tiptoes behind him quietly and squeezes Harry’s sides, laughing when Harry jumps out of fright and spins around.

“Oh, are you gonna talk to me now?” Harry asks teasingly, hands immediately falling down to grip Louis’ hips.

Louis hums, considering. He’s about to finally break the silent treatment when Harry leans down to kiss him.

“Shut up,” Harry whispers against Louis’ lips, kissing him again, harder this time.

Louis wants to tell Harry that he hadn’t even said anything yet, but he just kisses Harry back instead.

It can wait.

 

* 

 

Harry’s back is turned as he squeezes the ricotta cheese filling into roughly two dozen cannoli shells, and Louis knows it’s time to act. A freshly frosted batch of cupcakes is laid out on the counter, frosting flowers perfectly arranged on each, and Louis has about three minutes before Harry is ready to put it into the display case for the post-workday rush. 

He takes the cupcake with green frosting and blue flowers, his two favorite colors, and quickly sheds the liner, crumpling it into a ball and stuffing it into his back pocket to be disposed of when he’s closer to the bin. It only takes him four bites to finish the cupcake, but he still manages to savor every bit of sweetness exploding onto his tongue.

He’s still chewing when he begins rearranging the remaining cupcakes to close the gap left behind by the one he’d taken, carefully ensuring that the distance between each of the remaining cupcakes is roughly equal. He glances over at Harry and sees him with only two empty shells left to fill. Perfect timing.

“You know,” Harry says, filling the last cannoli and reaching for the tub of chocolate chips to begin decorating. “I would be less likely to notice you stealing a cupcake if you didn’t take one of the green and blue frosted ones every single time you visit the bakery.” He doesn’t bother turning around, but Louis freezes and takes a slow step backwards.

“Not sure what you’re on about, mate,” Louis says, swiping a wet rag off the counter and aimlessly running it over a small section of the counter. “I’m just helping you clean. I hate to be the one to say it, but you’re really losing your marbles these days. So much paranoia, so many accusations against the innocent.” He tries to sound concerned toward the end, but a smile is threatening to destroy his poker face entirely.

Harry finally turns around, eyes already rolled into the back of his head, and Louis allows himself to grin. 

“You’re lucky Barb and I like you so much or we’d sue you for how many baked goods you’ve stolen over the years,” Harry says matter-of-factly, lifting the tray of cannolis and bringing it over to sit next to the cupcakes. Louis watches as he begins unloading both into the display case, arranging each carefully.

Louis scoffs. “Barbara loves me,” he says. _She’ll love me even more if the calls I’ve been making the last few days work out,_ Louis thinks, but he doesn’t say that out loud. Not yet. “She would never sue me and she’d force-feed me baked goods on a daily basis if I weren’t so concerned about maintaining my perfect hourglass figure.” 

Harry puts another cupcake in the case and then pinches Louis’ side, making him twitch. Louis rolls his eyes as Harry takes off the glove from that hand and replaces it with a clean one. That’s Harry, always concerned for food safety, but still willing to waste a glove for a pinch.

“Your figure is quite admirable,” Harry agrees. “I’ll give you that. You’re right that Barbara probably wouldn’t sue you — she’s way too much of a sucker when it comes to you. Me, though, well.” Harry makes a considering noise. 

“You wouldn’t dare,” Louis says, poking a finger into Harry’s cheek until the dimple appears. “Barbara isn’t the only one who loves me too much. You’re just as much of a sucker as she is, if not more.” 

Harry glances at Louis and smirks, eyebrows raised. That’s the only warning he gives before he stuffs the second green and blue cupcake into Louis’ face. Louis makes a choked noise and steps back, startled, and Harry bursts out laughing before he even realizes what’s just happened. The cupcake, now almost entirely stripped of frosting, is still in Harry’s hand, and he puts it down on the counter so he can slap his thighs obnoxiously while he laughs. 

Louis reaches up to swipe a finger through the frosting, which is mostly concentrated on his nose. He goes slightly cross-eyed trying to look at the damage on his own face, and Harry only laughs harder.

Harry leans toward Louis’ pouting face and licks some of the frosting off the tip of Louis’ nose, smiling fondly when Louis’ face scrunches at the feeling.

“I guess I am,” Harry says thoughtfully.

Louis doesn’t have time to remember what Harry is agreeing with because Harry’s leaning in and kissing him, clearly unconcerned by the fact that he’s at work and customers could walk in at any moment. Louis must look like a complete and utter knob with his tie loose and a mixture of green and blue frosting smeared on his face, but Harry kisses him and he smiles into it. For just a minute, every ridiculous and shitty thing that’s happened to Louis this week fades away.

When they finally pull back from each other, they’re both still smiling. 

Harry walks over to the sink and wets a napkin before stepping back into Louis’ personal space. He smirks as he gently wipes the remaining frosting off of Louis’ face. When the door opens a few minutes later, Harry tears his eyes away from Louis’ face and smiles at the mother and two young children walking in.

“Welcome to Barbara’s Bakery,” he greets them, stepping away from Louis and tossing the napkin in the bin. Louis starts to move, assuming that Harry doesn’t want him to stay behind the counter, but Harry grabs his wrist. The woman is focusing on her children as they talk excitedly and point at different pastries in the case, and none of them are paying Harry and Louis any attention.

“Help me with the next batch of cupcakes and I’ll make you a few extra green and blue ones to take home,” Harry says.

Louis raises his eyebrows. “You want me to help you bake? Sure that’s a good idea?” 

“I taught you how to whisk, remember? I’ll put the ingredients in and handle the decorating, but I’m willing to trust you with the mixing,” Harry explains, reaching into the display case to remove two pink cupcakes for the children.

Louis sighs deeply and rests his hand on his chin as though he’s pondering something deeply. Harry ignores him, used to his tendency toward being overdramatic, and simply rings up the woman’s bakery purchases. Louis hops up on the counter and swings his feet as he watches Harry chat with the children. He’s not really listening to what Harry’s saying to them, but Louis can see that it has both little girls giggling. 

When the customers exit, Harry closes the short distance between the register and the space where Louis is sitting. He stops just in front of Louis, putting his swinging to a stop entirely.

“I suppose I can stay,” Louis says, wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck and kissing him again. He shouldn’t do that, probably, but Harry’s the one who started it, and Louis is helpless to stop his impulses at the moment. After a few long seconds, Louis pulls back. “It’s just for the cupcakes though, obviously.” 

Harry grins at him and steps out of reach just as several more customers enter, the evening rush finally beginning. 

“Obviously,” he agrees. 

 

* 

 

After arriving home from the bakery, cupcakes in tow, Louis locks himself in his bedroom for another night of phone calls. He’s been talking to assistants and being put on hold for days, but he has a good feeling about this.

When Julian Bunetta finally picks up the phone, he sounds younger than Louis expected. He also sounds exhausted, and as Louis scans the extensive list of properties Bunetta owns, he understands why.

“Hello, Mr. Bunetta, thank you for taking the time to speak with me,” Louis says, putting on his best mature adult voice.

“Sure, Mr. uh, Tomlinson. What can I do for you? My assistant mentioned you had an interest in one of my properties. The one with the bookstore, I think, right?” 

Louis can hear Mr. Bunetta fumbling through papers over the line and he smiles to himself.

“Yes, that’s correct. I’m Simon Cowell’s executive assistant, and I have a proposal for how you can get rid of a building that’s currently losing you money and doing you no favors. I can’t make any promises, but if we hash out the details, I think the Cowell Organization will be able to do something that will be to both of our benefits.”

Louis leans back against the headboard of his bed and crosses his fingers while he waits for Mr. Bunetta’s response.

When the man on the other line speaks again, he sounds intrigued.

“Alright, Mr. Tomlinson, you have my attention. What were you thinking?”

 

*

 

“I really feel like I should be paid for this, mate,” Louis says, stomach tensing under Zayn’s touch. 

Zayn ignores him and takes a few steps back, glancing around at the various paint cans open on the floor. After another minute of studying them silently, he dips his brush in a royal blue shade and turns back toward Louis. 

“You have paint on your nose,” Louis says helpfully. Zayn glares at him. 

“It’s time for you to shut up now. I’ve been listening to you whine for hours now and I’m almost done, but if you keep distracting me, it’s going to take even longer,” Zayn says, kneeling at Louis’ feet and swiping the paint over Louis’ legs in some bizarre pattern. When he finishes Louis’ legs, he continues the pattern onto the white paper that covers almost the entire expanse of wall behind Louis’ back. 

When Louis moved in with Zayn several years earlier, he quickly learned that Zayn often asks his opinion on new projects despite Louis having zero understanding of art. This time, however, Zayn is actively using and abusing Louis for the sake of his current project, and that’s something that has never happened before.

When Zayn told Louis he needed help a couple of weeks ago, he explained that his new project would incorporate the human body into the art by making it part of the canvas. He asked Louis to be his practice subject and promised that the role would simply require Louis to stand against a white background for an hour or so while Zayn paints him and the paper. It sounded easy enough at the time, but Louis should have known better.

First of all, their living room has been turned into Zayn’s own personal art studio. A huge piece of white paper is pinned to the wall that their bookcase and television stand usually lean against, which means several pieces of furniture have been pushed into a corner of the room. There is old newspaper spread across the floor by Louis’ feet and about ten different paint cans open, and that’s not even getting into the number of paint splatters covering the newspapers. Louis wonders how much paint dripped onto the floorboards below despite Zayn’s best efforts.

Second of all, Louis has been standing against the wall for almost three hours and has only been given three five-minute-long breaks to rest his legs. Since most of Louis’ front is covered in paint and Zayn is worried about the possibility of it smudging, Louis has been forbidden from using the loo. He’s never regretted drinking an afternoon beer more than he does at this moment.

Third of all, Zayn failed to warn Louis that he would be wearing nothing but a pair of white boxer briefs during the entirety of this painting session. Louis is standing almost naked in his own living room with multicolored paint covering the front of his body, and he has to pee. Zayn is going to owe Louis for this until the day he dies. 

Zayn has just moved onto the final color when someone knocks on the door to their flat.

“It’s open, but only if we know who you are,” Zayn calls out, and Louis makes a protesting sound. One of these days, Zayn is going to welcome a murderer into their flat. “Stop fucking moving,” Zayn says, swiping the paintbrush over Louis’ right nipple and smirking when Louis hisses. Louis’ nipples have always been highly sensitive and Zayn knows it.

A second later, Louis hears the flat door open and sees Harry come into sight. He looks like he’s just come from the gym, as he’s dressed in gym shorts, trainers, and an overworn t-shirt. His hair is damp with sweat and pushed back into a miniature bun. Louis really wants to give him a kiss.

“What the fuck?” Harry says, eyes wide as he takes in the bizarre sight in front of him. Zayn is kneeling again, having moved down to paint Louis’ thigh with red, and Louis is in a state of undress. It definitely looks incriminating, or at least, it would if Louis and Harry were actually in a relationship or had an agreement of exclusivity. 

“I’m Zayn’s art project,” Louis says, shrugging his shoulders. 

“Stop moving,” Zayn grits out again as he begins painting the red pattern onto the paper. 

“I’m gonna go grab a snack while you uh, finish up here,” Harry says. Louis can see Harry’s eyes slowly traveling down his body before moving up again. When Harry’s body scan is complete and his eyes meet Louis’, he winks obnoxiously and licks his lips. Louis wants to murder him. He bites his lip and tries to think disgusting thoughts to prevent himself from getting hard, grateful that Zayn is focused on the paper to his right rather than Louis’ body. 

Harry knows exactly what he’s doing with his leering, and Louis glares daggers at his back when he turns to walk toward the kitchen. 

Harry returns to the living room with a banana a couple of minutes later and settles down on the sofa. Louis has to maintain his stance against the wall without moving while Zayn puts the finishing touches on the background, and now he’s forced to do that while watching Harry deep throat a banana in front of him. 

It’s only another ten minutes or so before Zayn finishes. He stands back to photograph Louis and the painted paper behind him, and Louis does his best to be a good friend and stand with his limbs exactly where Zayn positioned them. He can still feel Harry’s eyes on him while he tries to remain still, and it makes his face prickle with heat.

Finally, Louis is allowed to move.

He and Harry close the small gap between them by walking toward each other, and Harry is smiling widely.

“You look absolutely ridiculous,” Harry says, stroking his finger over some of the green paint on Louis’ cheekbone.

“Shut up, you wanker,” Louis says, but he leans into the touch. 

As Louis and Harry help Zayn place the lids back on the paint cans, Louis realizes that the paint is beginning to get uncomfortable. The dry patches of paint are itchy and cracking when he bends his limbs, but he still does his best to help Zayn get their flat back into a more acceptable state.

When Harry jokingly smacks Louis’ arse when he bends down to close the last paint can, Louis narrows his eyes at him. Harry just chuckles and shrugs, clearly lacking any shame.

“What do you expect?” Harry asks. “You just let Zayn paint you practically naked and now you’re just standing there, perfect bum and golden skin and all.” The tone of Harry’s voice is teasing, but Louis knows there’s truth to his words. Harry can never resist his bum these days. Harry couldn’t even resist his bum before they started hooking up.

“Oh please,” Zayn interrupts, and Louis looks over at him. “I could have painted Louis completely naked and it still wouldn’t have been that weird. I’ve seen it all before, after all.”

“Jesus Christ,” Louis says, officially feeling over this conversation. “Let’s not go there.” He marches toward his bedroom with as much dignity as he can with so little clothing on. As he goes, he hears Harry start to follow him while Zayn laughs from the living room. 

“What was that?” Harry asks, closing the bedroom door behind them. 

Louis stares at himself in the full-length mirror on the back of his door. He actually looks pretty cool with all the colors and patterns over his skin, but he still never wants to repeat this experience.

Harry spins Louis around to face him and Louis raises his eyebrows. 

“What was Zayn talking about when he said that he’s seen it all before?” Harry’s hands are gripping Louis’ shoulders firmly as he speaks, and the look on his face is serious.

“Zayn and I may have hooked up a few times back in the day,” Louis says, grimacing slightly. It’s not something that he ever planned to discuss with anyone other than Zayn, but apparently falling in love with Gigi made Zayn indifferent to vows of secrecy regarding past fuck buddies. 

“What?” Harry asks, brows furrowed. 

“We used to have a friends with benefits thing. It stopped when Zayn met Gigi, but before that, we would fuck around sometimes when we were single. It was completely meaningless to both of us,” Louis explains. He wants to tell Harry how different his and Zayn’s arrangement was from what Louis has with Harry, but he doesn’t know how to say that without making it weird. 

“Did you,” Harry swallows and hesitates. “Did you have feelings for him?”

Louis wants to wrap his arms around Harry’s back and hug him, but some of the paint is still drying and he doesn’t want to risk ruining Harry’s clothes. He settles for stepping forward and resting his clean palms on Harry’s chest. 

“Definitely no feelings,” he says firmly. “We were purely friends with benefits, nothing more. We didn’t tell anyone about it because we didn’t want things to get weird in our friend group. Besides, we were both hooking up with other people sometimes. It was just something we did when we were horny or bored or high. It was convenient because we live together, but when Zayn found someone he had feelings for, he ended it and I was happy for him. Still am.”

Louis can feel a slight relaxing of Harry’s muscles as he speaks, and he can’t stop the thrill that runs through his stomach at the possibility of Harry feeling jealous. Jealousy over what Louis had with Zayn is ridiculous, especially when it’s compared to how deeply he feels for Harry, but Louis will take what he can get under these circumstances.

Harry nods.

“I really need to piss, honestly, and then I need to shower all of this off. Wait here?” Louis asks, and Harry laughs before nodding again. Louis turns and grabs a pair of joggers, clean boxers, and a t-shirt from the pile of clean clothes by his door and walks over to the bathroom, humming to himself softly. 

A few minutes later, Louis is watching rainbow tinted water wash down the drain when he hears the bathroom door open. He startles slightly, but he can see a Harry-shaped blob through the steam-covered shower door. He expects Harry to just piss and leave, but instead, Louis hears the sound of clothing hitting the floor and then watches as Harry opens the door and steps into the shower beside him. 

He raises his eyebrows and is about to make a sarcastic comment about how he’s happy Harry decided to finally wash the gym stench off, but Harry doesn’t give him the chance to say a word. He pushes Louis against the shower wall and kisses him hard enough to startle a whimper out of Louis. 

Louis immediately kisses back, sucking Harry’s tongue into his mouth and appreciating his soft lips. Harry steps back for a second to grab Louis’ vanilla-scented body wash and squirts some into his hand before kissing Louis again, this time while he moves his hands down Louis’ chest, rubbing at the stubborn remaining streaks of paint. Louis can feel Harry hard against him, so he pushes forward and up slightly to grind his own erection against Harry’s. 

Harry groans and leans his forehead against Louis’, gripping his hips firmly and staring into Louis’ eyes.

“You drive me crazy,” Harry says, and Louis smiles. His heart feels like it’s beating a mile a minute.

“That’s because you’re madly in lust with me, Harry,” he says, and he tries to say it jokingly, but his voice is shaky. He hopes the sound of the shower will drown that out.

Harry just looks at him, an intense look in his eyes, before moving in and kissing Louis again. 

“Yeah,” Harry murmurs. “I am.” 

Next thing Louis knows, he’s being spun around. Louis braces his hands against the shower wall and pops his bum back into Harry’s groin, smiling when he hears Harry’s breath catch. Harry fumbles with the cap of the body wash and then his hands are all over Louis again, gently rubbing at his back, legs, and arse.

Harry presses a gentle kiss to Louis’ shoulder before stepping back, allowing the water to rinse Louis’ body clean. He repositions the showerhead so it’s not spraying directly on them and then without any hesitation, drops to his knees. Louis looks over his shoulder, confused, and he’s about to turn around when Harry puts his hands on Louis’ hips from behind, making it clear that Harry wants Louis to stay in his current position. 

Louis swallows hard when Harry moves his hands down to spread his cheeks apart.

“Is this okay?” Harry asks.

“Fuck, yeah, Harry, whatever you want,” Louis says, and he’s never meant anything more than he means those words.

Louis nearly chokes on his own saliva when he feels the first licks of Harry’s tongue over his hole. He hasn’t had someone do this to him in a long time, and it’s immediately clear that he forgot how good it feels.

Harry is patient and steady, licking over him with long strokes of his tongue while Louis shivers above him. Just as Louis feels like he’s begun to adjust to the feeling, Harry switches it up, using his hands to spread Louis apart even further. He gently uses his finger to open Louis up, and when he pushes his tongue in beside the finger, Louis whimpers at the sensation. 

“You can touch yourself,” Harry says finally, and Louis can feel his legs shaking. He pinches his own nipples for a few seconds before moving his hand down to his cock. When he finally gets his hand around himself, he throws his head back and moans, not caring that Zayn can probably hear them from the other room.

Harry’s jaw must be aching by now, but he doesn’t let up. Louis feels Harry moves a second wet finger to his rim, gently prodding until Louis unclenches enough to let it inside. This time when Harry licks in between two fingers, Louis loses it. He bites one of his hands to keep himself from moaning too loudly while he jerks himself off with the other, and it’s only three more strokes before Louis finds himself spilling onto the shower wall and his own fingers. 

Louis pants against the wall for another few seconds before looking over his shoulder. 

“Your reward for rimming me is getting to come on my arse,” Louis says, and he hears Harry give a rough laugh from where he’s still kneeling behind Louis. Harry stands and molds his body against Louis’, rubbing his cock between Louis’ arsecheeks while he kisses the back of Louis’ neck. 

“C’mon,” Louis says, turning his head so Harry can kiss him despite the awkward angle. Louis feels Harry’s hand moving up and down his own cock behind Louis’ back. It’s only another minute or so of Harry grunting into Louis’ neck before Louis feels come splatter on and between his cheeks. 

Harry remains plastered against Louis’ back while he catches his breath. When he finally moves back, he turns the shower nozzle to direct the spray on them once more, and that’s when Louis realizes he’s shivering slightly. He’s not sure if it’s from being out of the direct spray of water for so long or if it’s just a reaction to Harry rimming him unexpectedly, but regardless, the hot water is a relief. 

Louis kisses Harry again under the spray, running his fingers through the hair plastered to Harry’s head.

“You should get jealous more often,” Louis says with a smile, pulling on one of Harry’s small ears gently.

“Oh sorry, did you say something?” Harry asks, an innocent look on his face. “I can’t hear anything over the water.”

Louis just rolls his eyes and reaches for the shampoo. 

 

* 

 

Inhale for six seconds. Exhale for six seconds. Inhale for six seconds. Exhale for six seconds. 

Just do it, Louis tells himself. He gets up and grabs the pile of papers in front of him, taking long strides toward Simon’s office before he has a chance to chicken out.

When Louis knocks, Simon has his glasses on and is reading something on his computer intently. Louis is fully prepared for Simon to just wave him away, but instead, he motions for Louis to come in.

“Sorry to bother you, Simon, but I was wondering if you had a few minutes to chat,” Louis says, voice sounding timid even to his own ears.

“Chat about what?” Simon asks, frowning. 

“I actually wanted to talk to you about the flats you were planning on building in the city,” Louis says, handing Simon one of the stapled packets in his hand and keeping one for himself to help guide him as he talks. 

Simon glances down at the packet, eyes scanning the page, before looking up.

“You have ten minutes,” Simon says, leaning back in his chair and gesturing to the seat in front of his desk. He ignores the packet entirely, which means it’s up to Louis to explain this as clearly and succinctly as possible. 

Louis swallows and sits down.

“When you first mentioned where you wanted Cowell Tower to be, I felt very hesitant about it because I know a bit about that area. A friend of mine used to live there when we were in uni and I’ve been to a few clubs and restaurants around there in the past,” Louis says, lying through his teeth. 

He knows that Simon uses peoples’ weaknesses against them, and if he had any idea that Louis knows the area because of the bakery that would be lost with this project, Louis would have laid all his cards on the table and Simon would have a weapon. Instead, he needs to sound as casual and detached as possible.

Louis continues.

“One thing you should know is that there are almost no grocery stores and Laundromats within walking distance. It’s very inconvenient, particularly since I know you don’t plan to include washers in the flats. That area can also get very loud and sometimes even dangerous at night, as there are six different pubs or clubs within a five-minute walking distance of the building. I remember witnessing the police being called numerous times. Lights, noise, and inconvenience are all problematic if you want to set the rent as high as you plan to, especially since there are several different buildings two streets over with lower prices and none of the issues I just mentioned,” Louis explains, reaching across Simon’s desk and flipping to the third page of the packet. 

On that page, there’s a map of the area with the bakery with markings on each of the buildings with available flats as well as the general price range. Louis also marked the pubs, clubs, and grocery stores with different colors. 

Simon studies the map and looks deep in thought.

“Now, of course I would never come in here warning you about a possible problem without having an alternative proposal ready,” Louis says, and Simon looks up. “I learned from the best, after all,” Louis adds, figuring that a few compliments for the most egotistical boss in history won’t hurt his case. 

Louis reaches forward again and flips Simon’s packet to a different page.

“Within the general area where you were hoping to build Cowell Tower, there’s a building that currently houses a bookstore and a high end clothing shop. This popped onto my radar about a week ago when I heard that the owner of the building was looking to sell. The bookstore is going out of business and has already begun clearing out, and the clothing shop has been suffering too. I talked to the shop owner yesterday and he said that he’s eyeing places to move to in northern London.” 

Simon frowns and looks down at the page, muttering under his breath too quietly for Louis to hear.

“I looked into the owner of the building, a man named Julian Bunetta, and I hear he’s been struggling to keep up with all of his properties, which is why he wants to sell in the first place.” Louis doesn’t mention the fact that he’s actually talked to Julian three times on the phone already because he knows Simon will be suspicious if he hears about just how deeply Louis has been looking into this behind his back.

“I think with some negotiations and smart business tactics, both of which you excel at, you can buy it from him at a price that’s higher than he expects, but significantly less than what you planned to pay for the other property. And of course, the area this other building is in doesn’t have any of the issues I mentioned earlier – there’s a grocery store only about five minutes away, the area is very quiet, and it’s arguably safer than most other areas in London.”

Simon picks the packet up off his desk and leans back in his chair again, studying it closely. 

“There are more details on those pages, and if you have any questions, you can feel free to ask me. I’ve looked into this a bit already, obviously, but even if I don’t know the answers you want or need, I can get you them quickly. I really think this could be an incredible investment for the company, so anything I can help do to make that happen, I’m game,” Louis says, twiddling his thumbs on his lap nervously. He’s grateful that Simon’s desk is blocking his view of Louis wiping his clammy palms off on his trousers every two minutes. 

“Thank you, Louis,” Simon says. “I’m truly impressed by the extra effort that you’ve put into this. It’s clear that you’re passionate about this, and I really value that in this organization. This type of passion is exactly what I look for when I’m considering people for promotions.” He raises an eyebrow as he looks at Louis. 

For the first time since working for Simon, Louis’ heart doesn’t race at the prospect of a promotion. He doubts Simon means it anyway, of course, as he’s promised this multiple times already and never followed through. Even if Simon does mean it, Louis feels no happiness or excitement about the prospect. He’s all burned out after weeks of hurdles at this job, and the only feeling he’s capable of at work besides exhaustion is the slightest bit of hope that Simon will accept his proposal.

Still, Louis tries to look eager because he knows that’s what Simon wants from him. 

“I just want to do what I can for the organization,” he says.

Simon gives Louis a short nod.

“I’ll look through this packet and consider your proposal during my lunch. I’ll keep you posted,” Simon says before putting the packet to the side of his desk and opening his laptop back. 

Louis knows a dismissal when he sees one, so he quickly thanks Simon and exits his office.

When he gets back to his desk, he gives himself a full sixty seconds to lay his head down on his desk and breath.

Inhale for six seconds. Exhale for six seconds. Inhale for six seconds. Exhale for six seconds. 

_I’ve done all I can do,_ Louis thinks, heart pounding. Now all that’s left to do is wait.

 

* 

 

Three hours later, Simon calls Louis to his office. He’s already made a call to Julian Bunetta, just as Louis anticipated he would, and Simon’s decision has been made. The sale will be finalized by the end of the week.

Simon has decided not to purchase the building that he originally wanted to replace with Cowell Tower.

Barbara’s Bakery is safe.

Louis won.

 

* 

 

As soon as Louis gets out of work, he takes the tube to the bakery to tell Harry, Sophia, and Barbara the good news. The bakery isn’t far from the nearest station, so he decides to run the entire way there. While he arrives more quickly, he also arrives out of breath and slightly sweaty.

Harry is at the register giving a customer change and Sophia is removing a tray of biscuits from the oven when Louis enters. There’s only the one customer and they’re clearly about to leave, so Louis doesn’t feel bad when he yells “Simon isn’t buying your building out from the original owner! He’s already revoked his offer! The bakery is not being knocked down! I repeat — the bakery is not being knocked down!” 

Sophia nearly drops the tray in surprise and Harry jumps at the loud tone of Louis’ voice, neither of them having even noticed him enter the shop. When Harry’s eyes flit to Louis’ face though, Louis can see the moment his brain catches up to what Louis just said. Harry lets out a loud whoop.

“Barbara, come out here!” Harry yells, ignoring the customer as he grabs his baked goods and exits with a frown. 

Barbara peeks her head out of the office door a second later. 

“What’s all the fuss about?” She says, looking concerned at the noise. Harry dramatically motions his arms toward Louis, encouraging him to speak.

“I’ve been looking at other properties for a couple of weeks now and I found one that would be an idea location for his flats,” Louis explains. “I made a few phone calls to make sure it could work out, of course, and then I pitched the idea to Simon earlier. He agreed. He’s not buying this building and you’re not going to be forced to shut down.”

Louis’ cheeks hurt from smiling so much, but the looks on Harry, Sophia, and Barbara’s faces when they hear the abbreviated version of the story makes it all worth it. Harry immediately wraps Barbara up in a hug and starts twirling her around the room happily and Sophia runs out from behind the counter to dance with Louis.

After several minutes of celebrating, Barbara whispers something into Harry’s ear and Harry disappears into the back. She walks over to Louis and pinches his cheeks.

“Louis, I don’t know how I can ever thank you enough,” she says, eyes wet with tears. 

Louis hugs her. “You can thank you by giving me a free cannoli. Then you can consider the debt paid,” he says, and she gives a wet laugh. “I love this place, Barb,” he replies more seriously. “You don’t deserve to have to give it up, and Simon trusts my judgment enough that I was able to convince him to go somewhere else. Please don’t thank me.”

Barbara pulls back, still tearing up a bit, and walks behind the counter just as Harry comes out from the back with his jacket on and his apron missing. Harry gives Barbara a wink as he walks toward Louis, and Louis is confused. Harry isn’t supposed to be done with work until closing, and that’s not for a few more hours. 

When Louis sees Barbara putting a cannoli into a bag for him, he forgets his confusion for a moment and rocks forward on his feet excitedly. He hasn’t had a cannoli in far too long, especially considering two of his closest friends work here.

“Barbara is letting me go early,” Harry says to Louis as he takes the bag from Barbara. Barbara gives him a mischievous grin as he thanks her and Louis feels his face heat up at the implication that is clearly being made here.

“You know, so I have time to repay you,” Harry whispers into Louis’ ear, and Louis shudders involuntarily. 

“Anyway,” he says too loudly, ignoring Harry’s low chuckle. “Thank you Barbara, and no, don’t you dare thank me again. Have a wonderful night! You too, Soph! Give Liam my regards. Alternatively, tell him to suck my dick because he still hasn’t responded to the text message I sent him this morning about a puddle I saw that looked just like him.” 

Louis sees Barbara about to start in on a lecture about his crude language, so he grabs Harry’s wrist and quickly starts to drag him toward the front door.

“Bye!” He yells, ignoring the laughter behind them as the door swings closed.

“Back to my flat?” Harry asks in a low voice as they walk to his car, and Louis nods. 

 

* 

 

“Stop thanking me, Harold, or I’m going to tape your mouth shut,” Louis says, exasperated. Harry’s thanked him about sixty times by now, and considering the ride back to his flat isn’t that long, this is just excessive. 

“You wouldn’t dare,” Harry says, unlocking his flat door and pushing the door open. “Then you’d miss out on hearing my sophisticated sex sounds, and you’d hate that.” 

Louis snorts obnoxiously and shoves past Harry to get inside the flat.

“Uh, Louis, you’re so tight, fuck,” Louis says in a high-pitched voice as Harry flicks the lights on. Admittedly, Harry’s voice sounds nothing like that during sex, and if pressed, Louis might admit that he himself makes some embarrassingly loud and high-pitched noises when he’s being fucked, but that’s not important at the moment.

“I think you’re conveniently forgetting the fact that my voice is about ten octaves deeper than that on a normal day, and it usually drops even lower when I’m inside you,” Harry says, eyebrows raised. “I’ve had enough of your sass today. Barbara wants me to reward you, and reward you is what I'll do, so we’ll see whose making the more embarrassing sounds by the end of tonight, hmm?” 

With that, Harry crowds Louis up against the closed door and kisses him. Louis is having fun being difficult tonight, giddy with excitement over convincing Simon to leave the bakery alone, but he shuts up for the time being and kisses Harry back. Harry tastes like chocolate when Louis licks into his mouth happily, ignoring Harry’s hands as they snake around his waist and move downward to their usual resting place.

Louis is too entranced in kissing Harry to notice what he’s planning, so when he’s picked up off his feet and forced to wrap his legs around Harry’s waist, he squeaks slightly in surprise and then slaps Harry on the shoulder. 

“How dare you manhandle me in this way,” Louis says in mock outrage, continuing to struggle as Harry carries them to the bedroom. Harry just ignores him and hums, and when he finally tosses Louis onto the bed to get him to shut up, Louis hears that Harry’s actually humming Let’s Get It On by Marvin Gaye. 

“You’re awful,” Louis says, unbuttoning his shirt and watching as Harry does the same by the end of the bed. When Louis gets to work stripping off his trousers and pants, Harry disappears into his closet, and Louis finds himself humming along to the song.

Harry returns quickly, still wearing his jeans, and Louis lies back on the bed and watches him. Louis’ legs are spread open slightly and his hand is tugging on his cock slowly, so when Harry sees him, he stops dead in his tracks.

“You know, Haz, I’m just really not in the mood tonight,” Louis says, smirking. “Think I’m just gonna jerk off and head to bed early, alright?” 

Harry’s eyes are dark, even from across the room, and he doesn’t blink once as he strips off his own jeans and pants. Louis’ mouth waters slightly at the sight of Harry standing there, cock hard and curved slightly to the left, body a contradiction of pale skin and dark tattoos, muscles and several painted fingernails. He looks absolutely delectable, but Louis isn’t quite ready to give up the game yet.

Harry doesn’t comment on what Louis’ just said, instead simply wandering over to his side table and digging around until he finds the lube. He squeezes some onto his fingers, still silent, and Louis’ gives a loud fake yawn to try to gain back some of Harry’s attention. 

“All I wanted to do is reward you for what you did today,” Harry says, voice light. When he lies down on top of Louis on the bed, Louis’ legs open on either side of his body without hesitation, and Louis can’t hold back a whimper when he feels Harry’s wet fingers against his entrance. “And you respond by acting like a brat.”

Harry smirks when he finishes speaking, gently pushing one finger into Louis’ hole and enjoying the way Louis shivers in response. Louis moves his hands to Harry’s chest, giving him almost no warning before he pinches Harry’s nipples with both hands. Harry jerks in surprise and removes his finger, wiping the lube off on the sheets and leaning down to kiss Louis hard on the mouth once. 

“I see we’re going to have to do this a bit differently tonight,” Harry says. His voice is low and dangerous, and it makes the hair on the back of Louis’ neck stand up in anticipation. 

“Oh yeah?” Louis asks sarcastically. He tries to pinch Harry’s nipples again, but Harry grabs his hands just in time to stop him. 

“Yeah,” Harry says, kissing Louis again quickly before reaching over the side of the bed. Louis peers over to see what’s happening and sees Harry moving his hands over the fabric of his abandoned jeans. When Harry reaches the back pocket, Louis can see a piece of fabric peeking out of it. Harry must have gotten it when he went to his closet earlier. 

“Turn around,” Harry says, and Louis listens without second thought, flipping around so he’s on his stomach. His gut is turning with anticipation, and the friction on his cock from this position is just a bonus. 

When Louis tries to grind his hips down into the bed slightly, Harry lightly smacks him on the bum. “Nope,” he says, and Louis groans exaggeratedly into the sheets beneath him. “I’m gonna tie your hands behind your back with my scarf, okay?” Harry asks, clearly giving Louis the chance to say no. 

Louis pushes his hips down into the mattress again. He feels impossibly hard and knows that he’s going to be more turned on very soon, but he puts his hands behind his back, presenting them to Harry with a soft “yes.” 

Harry ties Louis’ wrists together behind his back efficiently, and when Louis tries to tug his wrists free, he can tell that the knots will hold unless he jerks really hard. 

“Gonna behave now?” Harry asks, smugness evident in his voice. 

“Fuck you,” Louis says without heat, too desperate to feel Harry’s fingers inside him again to fight back much.

“I’m going to fuck you in a minute, baby, just be patient,” Harry says, and Louis grits his teeth. 

Louis can’t see anything from this angle, and because his wrists are restrained, trying to reposition himself will be difficult or painful. He’s at Harry’s mercy, and he knows that if he wants to be untied or moved, all he has to do is ask, but Louis won’t do that. He wants this. 

Louis hears the flicking of the cap on the lube as Harry closes it, and that’s the only warning he has before Harry’s finger is inside him again, stretching him out. Harry adds a second and third finger more quickly than usual, delivering gentle kisses to Louis’ lower back and arse cheeks as Louis pushes his dick down into the sheets, making a mess with his own precome and not caring even a little bit. Harry keeps muttering to Louis about how good he’s being now and how good he looks, and it doesn’t take long for Louis to feel ready. 

He doesn’t want teasing and he doesn’t want to be stretched any further. He wants Harry’s cock and he wants it now.

“Now, Harry, please,” Louis says, not caring that he’s begging. He struggles slightly against the restraints and groans, feeling frustrated and desperate to be fucked, but Harry isn’t one to enjoy watching him suffer. Harry moves Louis into a sitting position and then sits on the bed himself with his back leaning against the headboard. When Harry reaches over to fumble for a condom and slick himself up, Louis struggles to position himself on Harry’s lap. 

Louis knows his balance is off because his hands are behind his back, and he doesn’t have any leverage besides the strength in his legs, but Harry doesn’t seem to need much help. 

“Y’alright?” Harry says, and Louis nods frantically. 

“Yeah, just fuck me, c’mon,” Louis says, leaning down to kissing Harry. They kiss messily, both too turned on and out of sorts to do anything with finesse, but it’s still better than anything Louis’ ever felt. 

Harry helps lift Louis up, and they both moan when the head of Harry’s cock gets caught on Louis’ rim. 

He sinks down slowly, using his leg muscles while Harry keeps him steady with two firm hands on his hips. 

When he’s fully seated, he and Harry both pause while he adjusts. Harry looks gorgeous, curls messy and sweaty, eyes closed tightly as his cock is enveloped in Louis’ heat, and Louis feels like he could come just from sitting here with Harry’s dick wedged inside him as deep as it can go, Harry’s large hands cradling his hips, his own arms tied up behind his back. 

When he feels like he’s ready, Louis pushes himself back up, Harry’s hands still helping lift him and maintain his balance, and when he slams back down again, he swears he can see stars. It doesn’t take them long to fall into a rhythm, and while it’s not as fast or steady as usual because Louis can’t use his arms, it’s incredible. 

“God, how does this keep getting better?” Harry asks, voice full of awe as he moves Louis up and down on his cock and thrusts his hips up to go deeper. Louis just whimpers in response, too turned on to even voice how good everything feels right now. He loves being manipulated like this, loves the feeling of Harry inside him when all he can do is shudder and take it, loves how overwhelmed Harry looks at the sight of Louis letting himself be fucked this way. 

Harry’s hands tighten around Louis’ hips and he begins thrusting in earnest, not even bothering to let Louis lower himself all the way down before pushing up. He’s hitting Louis’ prostate with almost every thrust and Louis is fighting against his restraints slightly, desperate to touch his cock.

“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna,” Harry pants out, and Louis squeezes down without a second thought as Harry moves him down and thrusts up inside him simultaneously. Harry comes, mouth open on a loud breath and eyes closed, and for just a second, Louis wishes he were the photographer. This is the type of image he wants to keep forever. 

Louis almost forgets about his own erection and the slight soreness already blooming in his shoulder muscles, but Harry clearly hasn’t forgotten. He only takes a few seconds to recover from his orgasm before he’s lifting Louis off his dick, peeling off the condom, and gently untying the scarf to free up Louis’ wrists. 

“Harry, please,” Louis says when his arms are free, not even sure what he’s asking for, already reaching for his cock, but Harry just pushes him onto his back on the bed and goes down on him. When Louis feels himself hit the bottom of Harry’s throat, he knows he’s done. He comes with an embarrassing cry just like Harry knew he would. 

Harry moves up to kiss Louis tiredly, and Louis can taste his own come on Harry’s lips and tongue, but he doesn’t care. 

“You okay?” Harry asks when they finally break apart, hands already moving to gently knead at Louis’ shoulder muscles.

“Yeah, but you’re giving me a better massage in the morning,” Louis says with a smile, feeling sleepy even though he normally wouldn’t go to bed for hours. “I did save the bakery, after all. It’s the least you can do.”

Harry smiles and kisses Louis again. When he pulls away again, he has a glint in his eye. 

“I love when you being a pain in the arse ends with—”

Louis cuts him off with a hand over his mouth and a light elbow to the gut. 

“Don’t finish that sentence,” he warns, already knowing where’s going. After a few seconds, he removes his hand.

“—with me being a pain in _your_ arse,” Harry finishes. 

Louis responds to that with a pillow to Harry’s face, and by the time the dust of their low-energy pillow fight settles roughly fifteen minutes later, they’re both smiling, out of breath, and exhausted. They’ve created a pillow wall between them to prevent any further conflict, and they’ve both agreed that crossing the wall is a violation worthy of harsh punishment.

Louis’ eyes are finally fluttering closed when Harry interrupts his rapid descent into sleep.

“Thank you for saving the bakery, Lou,” he says softly, pressing a kiss to Louis’ forehead. 

“Anything for you, babe,” Louis says back without opening his eyes. The words are far too honest.

Louis’ last thought before he falls asleep is that Harry illegally crossed the pillow wall to kiss him on the forehead. A very long massage and maybe even some rimming is the least he’ll have to do to make up for it in the morning.

 

* 

 

For the following Saturday, Louis has the entire day planned out. He plans to wake up, eat breakfast, and then return to bed to watch reality television shows on his computer and answer emails until dinner. That’s why he’s less than pleased when his cell phone rings around 9AM.

“Why do you want to hurt me, Niall?” Louis doesn’t bother with an actual greeting.

“Hi, Tommo,” Niall says, and Louis sits up in bed when he hears the tone of Niall’s voice. Normally Louis’ question would startle a loud laugh out of the Irishman’s mouth, but this time, Niall just sounds tense. “Do you have plans for today? I need your help with something if you don’t.” 

Louis glances sadly at his rumpled sheets and open laptop.

“No plans. What do you need?” He says.

When Niall begins to explain, Louis figuratively pats himself on the back for being such a good friend.

 

* 

 

An hour later, Louis regrets being such a good friend. He’s standing outside on the curb, sunglasses perched on his nose, when Harry’s car pulls up. Louis hops into the passenger seat without a word and after putting his seatbelt on, sinks down into his seat and props his feet up on the dashboard.

“Good morning to you too, sweetcheeks,” Harry says, and Louis can hear the smile in his voice. 

Louis grunts in response, so Harry reaches over and pinches his knee.

“Tired?” Harry asks.

Louis peeks out from under his hood and groans loudly. “I had an amazing day of relaxation planned and now I’m going to be exercising. This is the possibly worst thing that has ever happened to anyone.” 

Harry chuckles. “You’re doing it for the children, Louis. Think of the children!” 

Louis sighs loudly. He is thinking of the children. Niall’s school has two football games planned for today – the first is a game for the teachers, and the second is a game for the students. The games are part of a biannual event that was established to help raise money for a charity. The charity is selected each year through a student vote. 

It’s a great cause and a fun day for everyone involved, and Louis, Harry, Liam, and Zayn have attended several times in the past to support Niall and his students’ charity efforts. Today, however, Louis will be attending in a different capacity. One of the teachers woke up poorly and when Niall couldn’t find a substitute, he decided to ask Louis to help. Louis played football as a teenager and even played for a while in uni, so while he may not be a professional on the field, he can definitely keep up with a bunch of teachers. 

If pressed, Louis would probably admit that he’s excited to get out there and play. Since nobody is pressing him, however, he’s going to be grumpy and nap in this seat until they arrive at the field. 

Harry lets him.

 

* 

 

Immediately upon arriving at the school, Harry goes to the ticket booth to meet up with Liam, Sophia, and Zayn, and Louis walks to the locker room so he can change clothes. Since he and Harry were already running late due to the last minute phone call, Louis put his shorts on underneath the warmer clothes to save time when he got to the school. It takes him almost no time at all to strip off his sweatpants and put on the “Charity Day” t-shirt that Niall left on the bench for him. 

When Louis walks out, the stands are already near full and there are groups of students and teachers warming up all over the field. It only takes a couple of minutes for Niall to spot him and jog over with a huge smile on his face.

“The man of the hour!” Niall exclaims, laughing loudly. In his hands, Niall is holding two pieces of paper with Louis’ football number and last name on them. The number is 27. While Louis appreciates that Niall likely tried to get him as close as possible to his lucky number of 28, which must have already been taken by another player, Louis wonders if it’s even worse luck to only just miss the mark. He supposes he’ll find out depending on how well he plays.

Louis holds perfectly still while Niall pins the number to the front of his t-shirt, as he isn’t looking to be stabbed by an Irishman today. When it’s pinned, Niall makes a spinning motion with his finger and Louis turns around, holding still again so Niall can pin the same number to his back. 

“You owe me for this one, Nialler,” he says, but they both know he doesn’t mean it. “What charity is this for, by the way? You didn’t say what the kids had decided on when we were on the phone.” 

Niall grins. “The Eden Dora Trust, actually, so one of your favorites.” 

Louis nods approvingly. His mum knows someone who works for the Eden Dora Trust, so he and his family have been donating to the charity for years. Even without the personal connection, children’s charities have always had a special place in Louis’ heart. He isn’t sure whether that’s because of how many siblings he has himself or because he‘s always wanted to have a big family of his own one day, but whatever the reason, he’s very happy with the charity his footie skills will support.

Niall links arms with Louis and leads him around the field, introducing him to the teachers and students who will be playing in the games. Most of the students are between the ages of 10 and 14, and they’re all extremely hyper as they prance around the field, chasing each other around and occasionally helping each other stretch with terrible form. 

Once Louis has been introduced to everyone, he can confidently say that he only remembers the names of a handful of people, but it probably doesn’t matter much since the last names are on the back and front of everyone’s’ shirts.

Louis knows that everyone else has probably been warming up for a while already, so he jumps into it as quickly as possible. 

Niall will be the coach of Louis’ team and Sandy, the school’s assistant football coach, will be leading the opposing teacher team. There are two students who were voted on to serve as coaches for the student teams, but Niall and Sandy will be helping them to make sure that students are rotated out and in whenever necessary. Because Louis is one of the people with the most experience playing football, he knows Niall will likely keep him on the field for most of the game. 

While the event is for charity, Niall has a competitive streak, and Louis knows he wants his team to win. Just two years ago, Louis distinctively remembers Niall being near tears when his team lost due to a last minute goal by their opposition. Louis knows Niall’s competitiveness is the reason why he asked Louis instead of Liam, Zayn, or the human Bambi named Harry Styles. 

Louis takes his time stretching, giving special attention to his knee, which he had injured repeatedly back when he still played footie regularly. He does his warm-ups next to a teammate named Nick, a tall and friendly man who informs Louis that he’s the English teacher. Louis offers to help Nick stretch on the condition that Nick returns to favor, and they chat while they do so.

“I’m too much leg and not enough coordination, honestly, so watch your back if you’re near me on the field,” Nick says. The tone of his voice is lighthearted, but Louis realizes he’s serious when he sees Nick trip over his own feet during a light jog from one end of the field to the next.

Louis just smiles. “No worries, Nick. One of my mates is the same way, so I’ve learned to watch out for flailing limbs.” 

As he speaks, his eyes scan the stands for the man in question. It doesn’t take him long to spot Harry in the crowd, and Louis watches fondly as Harry gestures wildly with his hands, deep in conversation with Liam. 

As if he can sense Louis looking at him, Harry glances down at the field. He smiles sweetly at Louis when he notices him staring. When Louis gives Harry a small wave, he sees Harry gets up from his seat. It’s only a few minutes until the game is set to begin, but Louis tells Nick he’ll be right back and jogs over to the bottom of the stairs Harry is walking down. 

“You starting?” Harry says in lieu of a greeting. Louis nods. 

“Of course,” he says. “Niall’s going to use me for all I’m worth, as always.” 

Harry smiles and glances over in Niall’s direction across the field, using his hand to shield the sun from his eyes. Niall is beginning to usher the students and teachers to the benches to prepare for the beginning of the game.

Louis breaks his attention away from Niall and takes a second to scan Harry’s outfit, which he failed to fully appreciate in his half-asleep state earlier. Harry is dressed in his typical brown-heeled boots, skinny jeans, and a yellow button-down top with birds all over it. He looks ridiculously out of place at a football game, but he’s probably the best looking person within a ten-mile radius. It’s just doesn’t seem fair.

Harry catches Louis giving him a once-over and raises his eyebrows.

“Good luck, Lou,” he says, pulling Louis into a hug. Louis allows himself to sink into the embrace, and when they pull back, he wants to kiss Harry so badly that he actually has to take a step back to stop himself. These days, he’s finding that physical distance is the only way he can maintain any self-control when it comes to Harry. 

If they were just around the other boys, Louis would probably kiss him regardless of whether or not that’s considered typical for people who are nothing more than friends with benefits. Liam, Zayn, and Niall have witnessed more than enough of their public displays of affection lately. However, Louis knows that Harry would probably be uncomfortable kissing Louis in front of all these students, parents, and teachers when they aren’t an actual couple.

Louis settles for just saying thank you, but just before he turns away, he notices Harry is staring at his lips.

 

* 

 

Aside from Louis, the starting lineup includes Nick, the music teacher (whose name is Josh), the Spanish teacher (whose name is James), and several other people whose names Louis can’t remember. He hopes one of them is the physical education teacher because his team seems largely hopeless. Then again, as Louis looks over at a history teacher from the other team who looks green from nerves, he can’t say that their opposition looks much better.

With the blow of a whistle, the game begins. Louis stays back at first, allowing his teammates to deal with the ball while still making sure to stay active on the field in case it comes his way. He quickly sees that Josh is a good asset to their team because he’s speedy and easily able to get the ball away from the opposing team. Within the first ten minutes of the game, Josh manages to score a goal with very little difficulty.

When the ball hits the net, Louis is positioned near the sidelines where the rest of his teammates are sitting. Niall pushes himself up from the bench where he had been sitting and biting his nails nervously. He and Louis do a little happy dance just to make some of the students nearby giggle. 

When the ball is thrown back in, it ends up near Louis almost immediately. Louis can hear Niall shouting at him to get in, but he doesn’t need to be told what to do. It’s all instinct and muscle memory, really, and he’s done this all before.

Louis weaves in between several teachers who seem confused as to what they’re supposed to be doing, and he’s quickly able to retrieve the ball from one of the opposing players. Louis tries to kick it out of the small crowd of players to find a spot where he’s open enough to kick it to one of his teammates. He only manages a few steps before he sees Nick collide with another player, both sprawling to the ground directly in front of Louis.

Louis only has a second to react to the sudden obstacle in his path, and unfortunately, it’s too late. He chooses to jump over Nick’s body rather than step on him or trip over him, and while he clears Nick’s body, the grass is wet with rain from the night before. Louis feels his right foot sliding out from under him and lands with all of his weight on his left knee. 

Louis groans and rolls over, burying his face in the grass so the students and other spectators won’t have to see the look of agony on his face. It takes everything in his power to prevent himself from letting out a string of expletives that no parent in the audience would forgive him for, injury or no injury.

The crowd and other players are eerily silent, and Louis assumes it’s because none of them have ever really seen someone seriously injured during one of these charity games before. Louis is rather annoyed that he, of all people, is the first. All thanks to Nick. 

“God, Louis, I’m so sorry,” Nick says then, and Louis forces himself to sit up. He manages a weak smile and allows Nick to pull him to his feet, hissing when he tries to put weight on the injured knee. 

“Dammit,” Louis mutters. There’s no possible way he’s going to be able to finish playing the game. 

The crowd is cheering for him now, so Louis gives them what he hopes looks like a cheerful wave as Nick helps to hobble to the sidelines. A wave of nausea hits when Louis reaches the side of the field, and he feels overwhelmed with the pain that a seemingly minor fall has caused him. If it hadn’t been for his previous injuries while playing footie, he probably would have barely felt a thing.

Niall’s hands replace Nick’s around Louis’ waist, and the Irishman must recognize the look of nausea on Louis’ face because he quickly helps Louis back into the locker room. As soon as they’re inside, Niall hustles over to the trash bin and pulls it to over to Louis just in time for him to lose his breakfast. 

“Fuck,” Louis says when he’s done, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He sits with his head down for another minute or so, grateful that the nausea seems to have subsided, but still feeling the pain of his knee and the general shakiness that often comes after vomiting.

When he looks up, Niall is no longer alone. Harry is standing there too, and Louis feels his face heat up. Great. Not only did he just have a humiliating injury during a footie match for charity in front of his friends and several hundred teachers, students, and parents, but Harry also got a front row seat to him retching in a bin. Harry’s been with Louis when he’s poorly before, but Louis generally tries to keep any vomiting behind closed doors. 

“Do you think you need to go to the doctor?” Niall asks, and Louis shakes his head. “Alright, mate. The nurse was just giving a kid a plaster for a scrape, but that shouldn’t take long. I can grab her right now if you don’t think you can wait a couple of minutes though.” 

Louis shakes his head again. His knee may be throbbing, but he knows a few minutes won’t make any difference. 

“Sorry I let you down, Nialler. I hope our team still wins.” Louis feels awful that he’s not going to be able to finish the game, but he knows there’s no possible way his knee will even be able to fully support him on the walk to the car, let alone on the field. Apparently he spoke too soon when he told Nick he was good at dodging limbs. 

Niall hushes him. “Don’t you dare apologize, Tommo. Obviously all that matters is that you feel better. I’ve gotta go back out there, but let me know what the nurse says, alright? And get some rest. I’ll text you when we win, because yes, we are going to win, and you make sure you keep me posted on what’s happening with your knee.”

Louis just wants to go home and go to bed, honestly, so he simply hums noncommittally in response to Niall’s request.

“I’ll keep you posted, Niall. Good luck,” Harry says, and Niall waves goodbye. When he leaves the locker room, Harry sits down next to Louis silently and squeezes his good knee gently, thumbing over the skin there softly. 

The nurse arrives in the locker room a couple of minutes later and quickly determines that Louis has a minor sprain. She tells him to go the hospital if the swelling doesn’t go down and to check in with his doctor first thing on Monday just to be safe. She also tells him stay on bed rest until then, and Louis thinks there’s a beautiful irony to that demand considering this game is what upset his plans for resting in bed in the first place. 

Harry doesn’t say much as he helps Louis hobble to the car, seeming to understand that Louis isn’t really in the mood for talking. One of Louis’ favorite things about Harry is how in tune he is with Louis’ emotional state. Even when Harry doesn’t know why Louis feels a certain way, he usually picks up on the emotions anyway and responds accordingly. 

“Can I come up?” Harry asks when they arrive at Louis’ building. “I mean, I’ll help you up to your flat regardless, but can I stay?”

Louis stares at him. “I’m going to be utterly useless and extremely whiney for the rest of the day, mate. You sure you want to deal with that? You’d have more fun hanging out with Liam when he’s going through his ironing routine.” 

“So it’s decided then, I’m staying,” Harry says, opening his car door. “Thanks for the invitation, Lou.” Louis rolls his eyes and accepts Harry’s hand when he helps out of the car, but he’s secretly pleased that Harry is willing to spend the day with him despite the injury and Louis’ grumpiness.

Up in Louis and Zayn’s flat, Harry guides Louis to his bed before disappearing from the room again. Louis lies down gingerly and props his knee up using a pillow before grabbing his laptop and opening up Netflix. He and Harry have been on a Peaky Blinders kick for the past couple of weeks, and today is as good as any day to binge on the series. 

Harry returns after couple of minutes with an ice pack, two painkillers, and some toast to help settle Louis’ stomach. Louis pops the pills dry, wincing at the slight scratchiness in his throat as they go down. Harry gently secures the ice pack to Louis’ knee with an elastic bandage so it will stay in place without Louis having to hold it. When it’s secure, he settles down next to Louis, taking care not to jostle his leg.

“How are you feeling?” Harry asks. Louis crosses his arms over his chest, closes his eyes, and sticks his tongue out of his mouth, feigning death. Harry chuckles. “I’m sorry you’re missing out on the rest of the game.”

Louis shrugs. “I just feel bad that I’m not able to really help out. I played what, less than ten minutes? Niall would have been better off asking you to play. At least you probably wouldn’t have ended up with a bum knee by the end. You usually end up injuring other people more than you do yourself.” 

Harry ignores Louis’ last comment and nudges him with his shoulder. “Hey, none of that. You were doing great before that guy tripped you up. It wasn’t your fault and nobody blames you for it. Besides, none of us were planning on attending before you volunteered, so the Eden Dora Trust still got money from our tickets they wouldn’t have otherwise.”

Louis sighs. He knows Harry is right, but he can’t shake the nagging feeling of guilt over fucking things up today.

“Your arse looked great in those shorts, you know,” Harry says, and when Louis glances over to him, he’s moving his eyebrows up and down obnoxiously.

Louis smirks. “Oh yeah?”

Harry leans in toward Louis then, and Louis can feel his hot breath on his face. It smells like the mint gum that Louis keeps in the kitchen, and Louis is about to scold him for stealing some when Harry closes the distance.

The kiss is more chaste than any Louis and Harry have shared before. Harry’s lips are soft and plush, and Louis puts his palm against Harry’s chest while he kisses back gently. 

When they finally pull away from each other, Harry maneuvers Louis’ laptop off his lap and then off the bed entirely. For a second, Louis is concerned that Harry is going to try to go further than just lazy kissing. He wants to, he always wants to, but he knows his knee isn’t up to any jostling at the moment.

Instead, Harry just lies back down and turns on his side so he’s facing in Louis’ direction. 

“Let’s just nap for a while. When you wake up, your knee will hopefully feel a little better.” Louis nods and snuggles down into the sheets. He’s half asleep when he links his pinky finger with Harry’s unthinkingly, and if he were more conscious, he would probably feel embarrassed by how needy he’s being, eager for any physical contact with Harry. As it is, he’s tired and in pain, and he just can’t be bothered to care. Rather than move his finger away or laugh at Louis’ neediness, Harry hums quietly and uses his other hand to cover himself fully with the blanket. 

When Louis wakes up two hours later, his knee is less swollen and Harry is drooling on his pillow.

Their fingers are still linked. 

 

* 

 

Louis’ stomach is turning. He fiddles with his tie three more times and reaches up to adjust his fringe four more times before he finally forces himself to snap out of it. All he needs to do is knock on the door. All he needs to do is lift up his hand, make a fist, and bump it against the glass three times. Knock, knock, knock. That’s it. 

He can do it. 

Louis takes one more deep breath and raises his fist.

“Come in,” Simon calls out after hearing the knocks. Louis shoots a quick thank you to the heavens above because for once, Simon doesn’t sound like he’s already in a bad mood. Maybe this won’t go as disastrously as Louis thinks. 

He opens the door and walks inside.

“If you’re not too busy, I’d like to talk to you about something,” Louis says. This moment feels vaguely reminiscent of when Louis had entered Simon’s office without warning and saved the bakery several weeks ago, but he knows this meeting will have a very different ending. 

Simon sighs and leans back in his chair. He doesn’t nod or say it’s fine, but Louis takes a seat anyway.

“After a lot of self-reflection, I’ve decided to leave the Cowell Organization,” Louis says. Getting the words out is one of the most difficult things Louis ever done, but the second they’re out of his mouth, it feels like the weight of the world has fallen off his shoulders.

Louis made this decision several days ago, but the only person he’s told so far is his mum. She was extremely supportive and even confessed that she’d been hoping he would quit, but Louis didn’t do it for her. He didn’t do it for Harry either, or Liam, or Zayn, or any other person other than himself.

Louis has been too terrified to break out of the status quo for years, and most days, his excuses sound lame even to his own ears. He makes good money at the Cowell Organization, but it’s not worth compromising his soul. Louis has good savings at the moment and even though his mum does have six children still living at home, her job and her new husband’s job both pay well enough that Louis doesn’t feel like his contributions are as necessary anymore. 

The incident with the bakery was the last straw for Louis. He never again wants to feel the way he did when he was in that meeting listening to Simon talk about his plans to destroy peoples’ livelihoods without even a second of consideration for the consequences of his actions. Louis knows that Simon is a great businessman. He knows that Simon is successful. He knows that Simon pays him well. But none of those things are enough anymore. 

The more time that Louis spends entangled with Harry these days, even with the mess of his unrequited feelings, the more stark the contrast between how happy he is outside of work and how miserable he is inside it. Yes, there’s a very good chance that once Louis leaves this behind and tries his hand at acting, he will fail miserably. However, Louis has finally realized that regardless of what failures may lie ahead, he won’t be any worse off than he is at a job where he’s been undervalued and left exhausted and miserable at the end of every work day. 

Everyone’s been saying it for years, but it’s true. Louis deserves better.

That’s what he tells himself when he looks across the desk at Simon’s expression of complete and utter shock.

“You must be joking,” Simon says, finally regaining his composure somewhat. His face returns to its typical expression, mocking smile and all, but Louis can still see frown lines on his forehead that aren’t usually there.

Louis wipes his sweaty palms on his trousers and shakes his head.

“I’m not joking. I’ve loved working here,” he lies. “And I’m incredibly grateful for the opportunity you’ve given me, but I know it’s time for me to move on.”

Simon’s face is reddening and his smile now looks extremely forced. 

“I see. Are you headed to one of my competitors?” Simon asks, voice dangerous. Louis wipes his palms again.

“No, no, of course not. I’m moving out of the real estate industry entirely and I won’t be working with any other entrepreneurs either. I’m actually going to try my hand at acting,” Louis says, shrugging. He knows Simon will laugh at that, if not out loud, internally, but Louis is trying not to let Simon get to him. Not anymore.

Sure enough, Simon gives him an amused smile.

“Well, you’ll be sorely missed,” Simon says, voice dripping with condescension. “When did you plan for your last day to be? Is this your two weeks notice, or are you planning on staying with us a bit longer than that?”

“I’ll stay until the end of the month,” Louis explains. “I figured that would give you enough time to find a replacement and for me to work with them a bit to make sure they’re up to speed before I go.” 

Simon nods.

“Well, Louis, you’ve been a great asset to the organization over the past few years. This really is such a shame.” 

His words are kind, but his voice is cold and completely unaffected, and just like that, Louis knows he’s dead to Simon Cowell. His years of hard work and putting up with endless bullshit and broken promises are forgotten, and it’s all because Louis decided to leave behind a job that was hurting him more than it helped him. As awful of a person and boss as Simon is, Louis can’t help the hurt he feels at knowing how disposable he is to his soon-to-be former boss. _You deserve better,_ he reminds himself again, and he feels his poker face returning.

“Thank you,” Louis says, keeping his voice equally unaffected. “I’ll let you get back to your work now.”

Simon nods. He doesn’t say anything else before Louis leaves the room.

 

*

 

Harry is kneeling on the balcony when Louis lets himself into Harry’s flat. It takes Louis a few minutes of confused searching to realize that, of course, as he begins by wandering from room to room calling Harry’s name. During Louis’ second walk through the living room, he finally spots Harry through the door and slides it open. 

“Harry!” He exclaims too loudly, and Harry startles. Louis immediately spots two birds flying away and realizes that Harry had been trying to photograph them while they were perched on the railing of the balcony. “Oops,” he says, cringing, but Harry just lets out an exaggerated groan.

Harry stands up and lets the camera hang from the strap around his neck.

“Thanks for being awful,” he says, but he’s smiling as he follows Louis back inside.

When the door closes behind them, Louis is bouncing on his toes slightly, nervous energy making him even more twitchy than usual. Harry doesn’t seem to notice as he gently removes the strap from around his neck and places the camera on the coffee table. Louis forces himself to stop fidgeting and settles down onto the sofa.

“So if I’m awful, I guess you’re not interested in hearing about how I quit my job today,” Louis says, idly examining his nails. He doesn’t look up when he hears the thud of Harry’s leg hitting the coffee table when he takes a surprised step forward, but Louis allows the ghost of a smile to return to his face. 

“Don’t fuck with me, Lou. Are you being serious?” Harry says, seemingly ignoring what is likely a throbbing in his leg. Louis drops the pretense of indifference and looks up at Harry just as he feels large hands yanking him up off the sofa. Louis wobbles slightly as his body tries to find its balance in a standing position, but Harry easily steadies him by grasping his hips firmly. When Louis looks at Harry’s face, he can see a smile that stretches from ear to ear. 

Louis swallows hard before nodding.

Harry lets out a whoop before moving his hands down to wrap around Louis’ waist, hugging him tightly. Louis buries his face in Harry’s neck and holds on for dear life, feeling the tension drain out of his body. It’ll be okay, he thinks. He just quit his job and he has no fucking idea what comes next, but he’s in Harry’s arms now. It’ll be fine.

He doesn’t have much time to appreciate Harry’s embrace before he’s lifted up slightly, just enough so his feet settle on top of Harry’s feet the way young children sometimes stand on their parents’ feet. 

“What the fuck?” He squawks, but Harry is already moving, dancing around the room with Louis on his feet, forced to dance with him. Harry is swaying exaggeratedly so they both look absolutely ridiculous, and Louis can’t stop laughing. 

He feels light as a feather, dancing around the living room with the love of his fucking life, even if Harry has no idea. Louis allows himself to be led around the room for a few more minutes before Harry picks him up again, this time from under his bum so Louis has to wrap his legs around Harry’s waist. They’re both still laughing, but when Harry presses Louis up against the wall, he finds himself short of breath.

“I’m so proud of you,” Harry says, and the seriousness in his voice ties Louis’ stomach in knots. Harry’s eyes are staring into Louis’, and it’s too much. Louis has to kiss him, so he does. 

Harry kisses back immediately, gently licking Louis’ bottom lip before slipping into his mouth. Harry only allows it to continue for another minute or so before he pulls back, breathing even more heavily than before. 

“How did Simon take it?” He asks, still gripping Louis’ bum securely, his fingers spread out and kneading. 

Louis huffs out a sigh, leaning his head back until it accidentally thuds on the wall behind him. He ignores the dull throb of pain. “He was really surprised, I think, but he just acted like a dick as usual. He’s probably looking forward to being able to find someone to hire for lower pay. That’s the thing,” Louis begins, but cuts himself off.

Harry leans in to kiss him again quickly as though he’s trying to comfort Louis, and that chokes Louis up, for some reason. He’s being too fucking emotional today. 

“No, what?” Harry asks, imploring Louis to continue.

“I’ve worked for him for years, you know? Almost three years, and I’ve done such a good job, I’ve done everything right, and he still just doesn’t give a shit. All that matters to him is what I can do for him, and beyond that, I’m nothing. I’m only useful as long as I’m helping him out. I don’t matter outside of that.” 

Harry listens intently to Louis’ rant, looking upset, and something inside Louis aches. 

Louis closes his eyes tightly, willing himself not to cry. He knows he’s being irrational, but he can’t help it. It’s been a long day, and even though Louis knows he did the right thing in quitting, it doesn’t make this any easier. 

“Fuck Simon,” Harry mutters against Louis’ lips, and Louis chuckles wetly. 

“No thanks,” he says, and Harry smiles and kisses him again. He sets Louis back down on his feet and grabs his hand, pulling Louis in the direction of his bedroom.

“Let’s not think about Simon,” he says as he pulls Louis along. “Let’s think about the fact that you took a huge step today and quit your shitty job. Let’s think about how proud I am of you. Let’s think about how happy you’re going to be moving forward. Let’s think about all the amazing things you’re going to do in the future. You’re gonna be so good, baby,” Harry says as they reach the bed. He pushes Louis down onto it and strips off his shirt. 

Louis follows suit, removing his shirt and lifting his hips off the bed so he can easily shimmy out of his denim shorts. By the time he tosses the clothes to the floor, Harry is already fully naked and throwing himself down on the bed. Harry rolls on top of Louis and settles between his legs, immediately reaching down to cup Louis’ dick through the fabric of his pants.

“Gonna make you feel good, okay?” Harry says. Louis nods and runs his fingers through Harry’s curls, pulling the other man’s head down to kiss him firmly on the mouth. 

Louis pushes his hips up against Harry’s palm, trying to create more friction. 

“Uh-uh,” Harry says against his mouth as he pushes up off of Louis’ body, removing his hand from Louis’ dick in the process. Louis groans, already feeling too hot and bothered to be teased. 

He turns his head and hides his face in the pillow beside him, flinging a hand over his face dramatically. He feels the mattress shift under Harry’s weight and then hears the familiar sound of Harry rummaging through the drawer of his night table. Louis peeks out from behind the hand over his face and sees Harry holding the condom and a half full bottle of lube. He can’t hide the smile that comes over his face when he realizes that he knows where every drop of that lube has gone. After all, most of it went in his arse.

Harry drops the condom and lube onto the bed next to them and turns his attention back to Louis. He slowly turns Louis face down, shushing the smaller man when he starts to grumble.

“Let me take care of you, baby,” Harry says, and Louis has to bite his own lip to keep himself from saying something that Harry definitely isn’t ready to hear. Something that Harry will never be ready to hear. “I’m going to show you how proud I am,” Harry continues, sliding Louis’ boxers down his hips slowly and peeling them off his ankles. 

Louis feels vulnerable like this, arse bare and face pressed into the pillow so he can’t see what happening. Harry seems to sense his discomfort though, somehow, and he shushes Louis again even though Louis isn’t making a sound.

The only warning that Louis has is the feeling of hot breath before Harry dives in, hands spreading Louis’ cheeks apart and tongue licking over his hole. Louis pushes his hips down into the mattress, rubbing his dick against the sheets, already overwhelmed by how good it is. 

Louis lifts his head, gasping out “Harry,” but almost immediately, Louis feels Harry’s hand on the back of his head, shoving his face back down toward the pillow.

“Just let me, Louis,” Harry says commandingly, but he doesn’t continue until he sees Louis’ nod. As soon as Harry gets the cue, he buries his face back down between Louis’ cheeks, licking him open. Louis can’t take much more before he comes, the sensation of Harry’s hot tongue and the friction of his dick rubbing against the bed too much. Harry knows Louis’ body better than Louis knows it himself, at this point, so he eases off. He sucks several love bites into the soft skin of Louis’ arse cheeks, and Louis reminds himself to look at the damage in the mirror later.

Louis moans in relief when he finally feels Harry press a lubed finger to his hole.

“You ready, Lou?” Harry says. Louis just gives another muffled groan into the pillow.

Harry opens him up quickly, one finger becoming two fingers and then three before Louis even fully realizes what is happening. He carefully avoids Louis’ prostate, but it still feels so good to have Harry spreading him open like this. After such a difficult day, Louis feels overwhelmed by how much attention Harry is lavishing on him. 

When Louis is sufficiently stretched and ready, Harry turns him back over and kisses him before he even has the chance to reorient himself. It doesn’t matter, of course. Louis knows his way around Harry’s mouth like the back of his own hand by now, and he kisses back with fervor, wrapping his legs around Harry’s hips as Harry puts on the condom. 

Louis’ abs tense when he feels the head of Harry’s cock press against his hole, but Harry simply rubs his dick up and down Louis’ crease teasingly. Louis wants to protest, far too ready for Harry to be inside him already, but Harry is kissing him so thoroughly that he doesn’t have the opportunity. Finally, Louis pulls back.

“Harry, don’t make me beg,” he says, fully aware that he’s giving Harry a golden opportunity to make a sarcastic comment or offer up an arrogant smirk. Instead, Harry just looks at him so intensely that Louis almost wants to look away. He doesn’t, refusing to break eye contact while Harry pushes inside. 

“I never would,” Harry murmurs as he bottoms out, kissing Louis deeply. 

Harry isn’t even moving yet, but it feels so good to be full again that Louis has to bite down on Harry’s lip to stop himself from moaning embarrassingly loud. 

“You ready?” Harry asks, and Louis nods frantically. 

Harry pulls out almost all the way before thrusting back in hard, leaving Louis desperately clutching Harry’s arms as they prop him up above Louis’ body. It only takes a few thrusts for Harry to find his prostate, and Louis finds that he’s holding on for dear life as Harry fucks him into the mattress. The rhythm he’s set is unbelievably good, but then again, so is everything about sex with Harry. 

Harry’s hands are on either side of Louis, boxing him in, Harry’s tongue is in his mouth, and Harry’s dick is wedged so deep inside Louis that it feels like a part of him. They’re panting into each other’s mouths, and Louis can’t stop running his fingers through Harry’s sweat-damp curls while they kiss. 

Harry pulls back briefly to change the angle of his hips, and when he pushes back in, Louis cries out. 

The rhythm of Harry’s hips is unbelievable, and the only sounds in the room are heavy breathing and the slap of skin when Harry’s hips slam against Louis’ arse. Louis turns his head to the side, too overwhelmed to keep looking at the gorgeous man above him.

“Touch yourself,” Harry says quietly into Louis’ ear. His hot breath makes Louis shudder, somehow, but Louis doesn’t have to be told twice. His hand snakes between their sweaty bodies to wrap around his dick. 

He feels so full, Harry overwhelming all five of his senses, and the feeling of a hand on his cock is too much. Louis knows he isn’t going to last much longer, so he tightens his legs around Harry’s body and clenches down, hoping to bring Harry over the edge with him.

Harry’s hips stutter and he lets out a low grunt, sounding so fucking sexy and turned on that Louis has to kiss him again. Harry kisses back feverishly, but he doesn’t slow his hips even a little.

It’s only a few more hard thrusts before Louis hears Harry grunt out “Lou,” and press right against Louis’ prostate as he comes. There’s nothing left to do but follow him, so Louis does, spilling over his own fingers with a moan.

As soon as he comes down, Louis feels exhaustion settle into his muscles and bones. Fuck. When Harry leans down to kiss him again, Louis uses every last ounce of energy to kiss him back.

“You’re amazing,” Harry says, and he looks so fucking honest that it makes Louis’ heart throb in his chest. 

The more time they spend together and the more intimacy sneaks into their hook ups, the more Louis struggles to draw the line between how he feels and what the situation between them actually is. _You need to control your feelings,_ Louis tells himself firmly as he looks up at Harry’s gentle expression. _He doesn’t love you, and you need to remember that._

“You’re mediocre at best,” Louis replies, heart still throbbing, but he knows his face works better than any lie-detector test ever could. Harry puts a hand over Louis’ mouth, ignoring it when Louis licks him, and sucks several love bites into Louis’ neck before he’s willing to let Louis talk again. 

Louis grumbles when he’s free, but Harry just kisses him again. 

It’s another ten minutes before Harry is willing to move enough off of Louis enough to pull out.

 

* 

 

Louis wakes up several hours later to the click of a camera, and he groans into the pillow. Both he and Harry were too lazy to clean up when they finished, so the feeling of dried sweat and lube is tacky on his skin. Louis is ninety nine percent certain that if he leaned over the side of the bed right now, he would see the used condom lying on the floor.

It takes a few seconds for Louis to realize that the sheets are tangled at his feet.

“Are you taking pictures of my bare arse?” Louis says, rolling over so he’s on his back.

Harry is standing by the bed wearing nothing but pants, hair back. Sure enough, he has his camera in his hands, and he doesn’t even have the decency to look ashamed at being caught taking naked photos of Louis. The moment jogs something in the back of Louis’ memory that he can’t quite reach, but he brushes it off. 

“Maybe,” Harry says, raising the camera again and clicking the button, this time capturing Louis’ nudity from the front. “You look well-fucked,” he adds, and Louis rolls his eyes. He knows he does. 

Louis sits up, wincing at the stretch of his sore muscles. When Harry sets down his camera, Louis reaches out his hand, and Harry doesn’t hesitate to grab it. Louis drags him back down onto the bed, and Harry kisses him.

“You look beautiful too, you know,” Harry says softly, and there’s that painful honesty again. Louis isn’t sure what to say to that, so he just presses his lips to Harry’s jaw, kissing gently.

“Lay down with me a while longer,” Louis says, and Harry does.


	5. Chapter Four

Louis is sitting on the sofa watching a repeat of Big Brother UK and eating cereal when Zayn gets home from work. Louis doesn’t bother tearing his eyes away from the argument unfolding on the television screen, as he assumes that Zayn will just settle down next to him with his own bowl to watch as usual. 

Louis is about to put his bowl down on the coffee table and prop his feet up when he sees Zayn out of the corner of his eye. He’s lingering near the sofa awkwardly, and he looks uncomfortable.

“Y’alright, mate?” Louis says, suddenly feeling uneasy. 

Zayn sighs. “Can I talk to you about something, Lou?” He asks. Louis nods, patting the cushion next to him.

Zayn sits down and sighs again. A million thoughts are running through Louis’ head — someone has died, someone is sick, Zayn accidentally told Harry that Louis is in love with him, Zayn found out that Louis and Harry accidentally got come on Zayn’s favorite blanket when they hooked up on the living room floor the other day — the possibilities are endless, and most of them are bad.

“Gigi and I are going to be getting a flat together,” Zayn says. Louis stares at him, mouth gaping open.

“You had me bricking it over you and your girlfriend of more than a year moving in together? Jesus Christ, Zayn, I thought you were going to tell me it’s terminal,” Louis says exasperatedly. 

Zayn laughs, sounding relieved. “I’m sorry, bro,” he says, reaching over to wrap his arms around Louis. Louis hugs him back tightly, pressing his smile into Zayn’s shoulder.

“I’m happy for you. You and Gigi are great together, you know?” Louis says, and he means it. He’s going to miss living with Zayn, but he’s 24 and Zayn is 23. They were going to have to go their separate ways eventually. Louis’ just glad that Zayn found someone he loves enough to see himself building a home and future with. 

“I know you just quit your job and money might be an issue right now, so I felt really guilty. I should have talked to you about this much earlier, but it still seemed so new and I didn’t want to jinx it before we knew it would definitely work out. Gigi and I have been looking at flats for a few weeks now, and we just found one that is the perfect size and price range for us. There’s even a spare bedroom that I can use as a studio!” 

Louis smiles again at that. When he and Zayn first moved in together during uni, they used to lie in Zayn’s bed and talk about their dream homes. Louis wanted plenty of extra bedrooms so his family could visit whenever they wanted and so his kids could have their own bedrooms one day. Zayn wanted a flat with a well-lit room that could function as an art studio and he wanted the place to be within walking distance of The National Gallery. 

They were just dreams then, but now it’s becoming a reality for Zayn. Louis feels like a proud father about to send his son off to live alone for the first time.

“I’m excited to see it, mate,” Louis says. “And don’t worry about me. I’ll be able to find a one bedroom flat that I can afford no problem. I have enough money saved up for a few months’ rent at least. Are you moving out right away, or waiting until our lease expires next month?” 

Louis realizes then that he only has a matter of weeks to find a new flat and get moved in. He tries not to let the nervousness show on his face because he doesn’t want to take away from Zayn’s excitement, but it’s overwhelming to think about how many changes are going to be happening in Louis’ life in the next few weeks. He’s going from having a reliable job and a flatmate to being unemployed and living in a new, single person flat. 

“I was going to move out in a couple of weeks, so you’ll have the flat to yourself for a while,” Zayn says, and Louis brushes his worries aside for a moment to look around the room and smile. 

“Oh, gross,” Zayn groans. “I can already tell you’re thinking about all the sex you and Harry are going to have in my empty bedroom and on every other surface of this flat once I’m gone. You’re awful.” 

Louis shrugs, standing up and grabbing his cereal bowl off the table.

“Mate, we’ve already hooked up on most surfaces in this flat. Actually, Harry wanted me to ask you — what’s the thread count of your sheets? He loved the feeling of them the other night when I was riding him into oblivion.” Louis gives Zayn a condescending pat on the head before turning to walk toward the kitchen.

He can’t say he’s surprised when he feels one of Zayn’s shoes hit him in the back. That’s probably going to bruise, but the look of revulsion on Zayn’s face when Louis glances back makes it all worth it.

 

* 

 

Louis has had an absolutely awful day training his replacement at work, but it only takes him five minutes of interaction with Harry in his flat to realize that Harry’s mood is significantly worse off than his. Louis hoped to just eat dinner and watch a film for a while, but even the discussion about what to watch is proving to be a disaster.

“Grease?” Louis asks, already preparing himself for Harry’s response. 

“Nothing sounds less desirable to me in this moment than watching Grease,” Harry says, eyes still glued to his phone.

Louis rolls his eyes and pulls out the next film DVD from his and Zayn’s cabinet. 

“Deadpool?” Louis suggests, watching Harry’s face for a reaction. Harry continues scrolling through his phone as though he hadn’t heard Louis, and when Louis repeats himself, he just lifts one shoulder noncommittally.

“Harry, are you going to continue acting like this much of a prick all night, or should I just kick you out now?”

Harry finally throws his phone down on the sofa and levels a glare at Louis. 

“I’m sorry that all your film suggestions are terrible, Louis, but just because I’m not interested in watching what you want to watch doesn’t mean I’m acting like a prick,” Harry says, and the rude tone to his voice sets Louis off.

“I don’t know what the fuck your problem is, but I’m really not interested in dealing with it, so you can either tell me what crawled up your arse and died or you can go home,” Louis says, getting to his feet and kicking the DVD cabinet door closed. He puts his hands on his hips and waits.

Harry sighs, rubbing his hand over his face. “I’m sorry,” he says finally, and Louis lets his shoulders relax. “A woman was really rude about some of my photos of her daughter’s wedding and it put me in a mood. I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”

Louis walks over and sits down next to Harry on the sofa. 

“What did the daughter think about the pictures?” He asks.

“She and her husband were really happy with them. It was just the mother of the bride who said they suck,” Harry says. Louis can tell from his tone and the look on his face that whatever the woman said to Harry is really bothering him.

“Lay on the sofa face down,” Louis says, gesturing with his hand. Harry looks confused for a minute but complies, lying down and propping his calves up on the arm of the sofa, as they don’t fit straightened out. When he’s settled, Louis walks over and plops himself down on Harry’s bum, straddling him.

He wiggles his fingers and rolls his wrists a few times, ignoring the questioning glances that Harry keeps throwing him over his shoulder. Once he feels like his fingers and hands are sufficiently prepared, he places his hands on either side of Harry’s neck and starts rubbing.

Louis is no expert in massage, but he can feel how tense Harry is immediately. He sets to work kneading at the knots around Harry’s shoulder and rubbing over the back of his neck firmly, forcing the muscles to loosen up. When Harry gives a moan at how nice it feels, Louis smiles.

“Just ignore that bitter old hag,” Louis says as he works, and he watches Harry’s back move as he chuckles. “It was the bride and groom’s wedding, and it’s their opinion of the photos that really counts, even if it was the mother-of-the-bride who was paying. You’re an incredibly talented photographer and anyone with wedding photos by you is lucky, so she can go fuck herself.” 

Harry’s entire body relaxes slightly as Louis speaks, and Louis is glad to see him letting some of the tension from his day go. He hates that anyone would ever make Harry feel less than amazing, especially considering how much effort he puts in to major events like weddings. It makes Louis want to track that nasty woman down and make her cry, but he settles for making Harry feel better instead.

“Thank you, Lou,” Harry says, words slightly muffled from where his face is pressed into the cushion. 

“You’re welcome, Harold,” Louis says in response. “But if you ever say anything rude about Grease again, I can assure you that they’ll never find your body.” 

Harry’s back shakes with laughter under his hands again, and Louis smiles. 

He spends the next half hour massaging Harry’s neck and back muscles, moving slowly and steadily downwards as Harry turns to mush under his palms. They pass the time by chatting about their day and anything else that comes to mind, and it’s almost better than watching a film would have been. By the time Louis finishes, his fingers are tired and Harry is half asleep underneath him, but Louis knows that he’s managed to make him feel better.

Harry sleepily shuffles over to make room for Louis when the massage is over. Louis puts Grease on at a low volume and settles down in the space that Harry’s opened up for him. It doesn’t take long for Harry to fall asleep for real, mouth open and snoring softly, but Louis just glances over at him fondly and continues watching the film.

He’s had worse days.

 

* 

 

Louis hasn’t even looked at the first flat of the day, but he already feels exhaustion deep into his bones. The prospect is daunting to say the least; Louis hasn’t had to find a flat in years, and the last time, he had Zayn to help. 

A real estate agent will be walking Louis to three different places today, and if he doesn’t see something he likes, they’ll be looking at even more next week. Louis is secretly hoping that the first one he sees will be perfect, but he isn’t feeling particularly optimistic. Louis has fairly high standards and while his budget is certainly higher than it was when he and Zayn were in uni, his hazy employment situation puts some restrictions on what he can afford long-term.

He’s just getting ready to leave to meet his real estate agent when his phone beeps. Louis glances down.

_Come downstairs_

Louis frowns. Since he was about to leave anyway, he grabs his key, locks the door behind him, and heads downstairs. When he walks out the front door of his building, Harry is standing on the pavement outside. He’s wearing a nice coat and his camera is slung around his neck as though he’s about to go somewhere important. Louis is confused.

“What are you doing here, Harold?” Louis asks, pulling Harry into a hug.

“Thought I’d keep you company while you go look at flats,” Harry says, hugging him back. 

Louis smiles happily. “Thanks, mate,” he says, linking arms with Harry and guiding him in the direction of the tube. “The first place isn’t too far from here, I’m pretty sure.” He pulls out his phone to glance at the address.

Harry and Louis chat mindlessly on the way to the first flat, and Louis worries that Harry is going to end up getting bored and regretting his offer to help out, but he looks perfectly content. Louis knows Harry must have realized that choosing a flat without anyone there to help would be overwhelming for him and decided to tag along for Louis’ benefit. His thoughtfulness means more to Louis than he could ever put into words.

When they arrive at the first flat and Louis has triple checked the address and flat number to make sure he isn’t knocking on a random person’s door, a red-haired man who looks very friendly opens the door.

“Mr. Tomlinson?” The man asks, looking between him and Harry, and Louis waves his hand to identify himself as the person in question. The man smiles and sticks out his hand. “I’m Ed Sheeran and I’ll be walking you through the three flats today. You can just call me Ed.” 

Louis gives him a big smile and reaches out to take his hand, shaking it firmly. “Hi Ed, please call me Louis. This is Harry Styles and he’ll be tagging along today too, if that’s alright.” 

Ed smiles at Harry and shakes his hand as well before motioning for them both to follow him inside. “Are you two partners?” He asks, clearly eyeing the lack of personal space that Harry and Louis observe when they’re around each other.

“No,” Harry says, wrapping his arm around Louis in a show of intimacy that contradicts his words. “We’re just mates.” 

Ed looks slightly confused as he observes Harry’s casual expression and Louis’ tight smile, but he nods.

“Um, okay,” he says. “My mistake. Anyway, as you can see, we’ve just entered into the small entranceway to this flat, which opens up to the living room and kitchen. Both rooms are both rather open and spacious for the price of this place, and as you can see over there, there’s even space for a dining table if you want one.”

Louis walks around the room and glances down at the buildings across the way and the street below. The view is not particularly impressive, but neither is the view at his and Zayn’s place, and they’ve managed to survive this long. 

Harry fumbles his way through the kitchen, examining how deep the cabinets are and checking inside the oven as though it’s going to be his flat. Louis supposes that with how much time Harry spends at his place, that isn’t too far from the truth. 

“This is a great oven, Louis,” Harry says, and Louis laughs. 

“I know I made fish and chips once, Harry, but cooking still isn’t exactly my first priority.” 

Harry frowns at him. “I love to cook, Lou, so the oven is very important to me.”

Louis bites back a comment about how they’re not actually boyfriends, so Harry won’t actually be living here. Since that type of bitterness is the opposite of controlling his emotions, Louis keeps his mouth closed and follows Ed down the very short hallway to the loo and the bedroom. Both are small, but not unreasonably so, and Louis can definitely picture himself being happy in this flat. Harry wanders in with his camera in hand, snapping pictures of the space, and Louis is grateful that he’ll have good photos as reference points when he goes back to decide which flat to rent later. 

“What do you think?” Harry asks, taking a last picture of the view from the bedroom window and turning toward Louis.

“I like it,” Louis says. Harry snaps a photo of Louis’ face when he’s finished answering and Louis groans, pushing past Harry to return to the main room of the flat while Harry laughs behind him. The number of unexpected and unflattering photos of Louis that Harry must have hidden away on his hard drive is a truly terrifying thought. 

“This one was great, Ed, but I’d love to see the others,” Louis says, exiting the flat with Harry and Ed close behind him.

The next flat is close to the first, but it’s a studio instead of a one bedroom. Louis isn’t a big fan of studios because he prefers a separate space for his living area, mainly because of how frequently his friends come over, but the flat isn’t terrible. Harry likes the kitchen, but seems lukewarm about the rest, and while Harry’s not the person who needs to love it, Louis trusts his judgment more than anyone else’s. As soon as Harry’s finished taking photos of the space, he asks Ed to lead them to the final destination of the day. 

When the cab pulls up outside the third flat building, Louis knows it’s the one without even stepping foot inside yet. He loves the look of the building, old-fashioned and unique, and this neighborhood is one that Louis has heard good things about at work before. Harry squeezes his hand and offers him a smile just before Louis gets out of the car, and Louis loves that Harry has the same good feeling about it that he does.

The flat they’re supposed to walk through is on the third floor, and when Ed unlocks the door, it opens right into the living space. The kitchen is quite roomy compared to most places that Louis has seen in London, and the living room is big enough for all their friends to come over with plenty of room for activities. There are no tall buildings across the street blocking the view, so the living room and bedroom both let a lot of sunlight in through their large windows. 

Harry takes the photos with a smile on his face, and Louis feels a stark sense of relief. He can afford this flat for the first few months just out of his savings, and it won’t be hard to find a job that pays enough for him to continue paying the rent here even if acting doesn’t work out. 

Louis tells Ed that he’s going to take a bit of time to go through the photos Harry took and sleep on it before he puts in an application for one of the flats, but he can tell by the look on Ed and Harry’s face that they both know he wants this one. Louis just offers them a sly smile and takes one last look around the flat that will hopefully become his future home.

Ed parts ways with them downstairs and Louis knows that Harry has some photography stuff to do, so they decide to just say their goodbyes as well. 

“I can definitely see us christening every surface in that flat,” Harry says softly into Louis’ ear while they hug. Louis shoves him away, laughing, but Harry doesn’t stop there. “Really though, Louis, I can picture you in that place. Hair all ruffled when you’ve just woken up, perched on the counter acting bratty when I’m making you breakfast, reading through scripts while I take your picture without you even noticing, playing with Ernest and Doris on a soft rug in the living room...I can imagine all of that. The flat suits you.” 

_It suits us,_ Louis can’t stop himself from thinking. And it’s ridiculous, because Louis knows he and Harry are friends and fuck buddies, nothing more, and because Harry has a gorgeous and more expensive place across London. 

The thing is that if this were six months ago and Louis had to tour flats, he would be imagining the space filled with art that he appreciates, photos of his family and friends that make him happy, furniture that he finds comfortable, and knick knacks that remind him of the things he’s done and the places he’s been. 

Now, though. 

Now he walks through that flat, and in his mind’s eye, Harry is always filling half the space. 

Louis hates that Harry included himself in several of those visions for Louis’ flat because he can picture them too, but it means more to him than it does to Harry. Louis loves those visions of a hypothetical future too much and that’s always the problem. Where Harry sees friendship and more nights of fucking without any further attachment, Louis sees hope for Harry finally falling in love with him, even after all this time. 

Louis sees a future for them that doesn’t exist. 

 

* 

 

“Alright, you can come in now!” Harry calls. His voice is muffled through the door, but Louis can hear him well enough.

Louis turns the door handle and peeks in slowly, immediately seeing that the room is bathed in red light.

So the dark room is still pretty dark then. 

Louis walks inside and approaches Harry, who is looking at the newly developed photographs hanging up on the line. Most of the photos are of inanimate objects, but Louis sees a few of himself. He’s about to look more closely at them and possibly snatch any bad ones away so they can be disposed of properly, but Harry tugs on his wrist. Louis follows him as Harry backs away from the dark room materials on one side of the room, not stopping until his back hits the far wall.

“It’s dark in here,” Louis says, and Harry glances around.

“Wow, it’s almost like it’s my dark room!” He says sarcastically with a mock surprised look on his face.

“Don’t be sarcastic, Harry,” Louis scolds, but Harry is already leaning in to kiss him.

They haven’t seen each other in a few days and haven’t gotten off together in longer, so the kiss grows heated quickly. They’ve been doing this for long enough now that kissing Harry feels like coming home. Every movement of his lips and stroke of his tongue is familiar and comfortable, and it takes all of Louis’ willpower to remind himself that Harry isn’t his and this familiarity can vanish at the snap of Harry’s fingers. 

Louis needs to not think about any of this right now.

“Can I blow you?” The words come out muffled against Harry’s lips, but Harry seems to hear him just fine. 

“Do you think I’m going to say no to that?” Harry bites gently on Louis’ lower lip while he hands stroke down Louis’ back gently. “You want me to turn the normal lights on?” He asks, and Louis shakes his head. He likes the ambiance that the room has right now, dark except for the warm red lights. 

Louis doesn’t stop kissing Harry while he reaches down to unfasten Harry’s jeans. He massages Harry’s cock over his boxers, coaxing him into hardness, and he appreciates how he can tell how turned on Harry is getting just by listening to the sound of his breathing. When Harry is more than half hard, Louis kisses him once more on the lips more chastely than most people who are about to give a blowjob, and drops down to his knees.

When Harry reaches down to help pull his own jeans down, Louis slaps his hands away. He teases his fingers along the top of the denim before slipping his hands in the back to grab Harry’s arse, giving Harry a taste of his own favorite medicine. Harry jumps slightly at the unexpected grab and Louis doesn’t hesitate before yanking down Harry’s jeans and pants in one go. 

Harry gets to work unbuttoning his shirt, and by the time he steps out of his jeans and boxers a few seconds later, he’s naked from head to toe. Louis moves his eyes up and down appreciatively. Harry has an amazing body and anyone with eyes can see that, but more importantly, Harry is confident in his body. He’s completely secure in his own skin and in everything he does, and that’s something Louis always respects and admires.

Louis refocuses his attention on Harry’s cock and uses his hands to stroke him to full hardness, which takes almost no time at all. He can feel Harry looking down at him, gaze hot on his face, but he doesn’t bother looking up quite yet. 

“Tell me about the photos hanging up over there,” Louis demands, still moving his hand up and down on Harry’s cock.

“Uh,” Harry says, but Louis just waits, not making moves to do anything other than jerk Harry off slowly. “The first one is of an abandoned coffee cup and newspaper I saw on the tube,” he says, voice mostly steady. “The second one is a flower that I saw growing out of a crack in the pavement. The third one is, uh, fuck, I love when you do that. The third one is of a quirky building I saw when I took a wrong turn on the way to meet a client a few days ago.”

Louis chooses that moment to suck the head of Harry’s cock into his mouth slowly, closing his eyes and lapping up the precome already pooling at the tip. Harry chokes out a gasp in surprise at finally feeling Louis’ mouth, and Louis almost smiles at that. 

“Keep talking, Harold,” he says, pulling off to speak before moving further down Harry’s dick, mouth stretched wide.

“Uh, the —the fourth one is just some graffiti I saw on a building by Barb’s, and, Louis, baby, okay. The fifth is a sunset I saw when I last went home to visit mum and Robin. The next one is of...” 

Louis takes Harry down as far as he can, cock hitting the back of his throat while one of his hand strokes the part of Harry’s dick that won’t fit. Harry loses his train of thought.

Louis pulls off him again, slurping slightly. 

“What am I to you, Harry?” Louis says, keeping his voice smug so Harry won’t get the wrong idea. He mouths at Harry’s dick again and rolls Harry’s balls in his hand gently while he waits for the response.

“My best friend,” Harry says, moaning softly when Louis’ tongue dances along his hot skin. “My uh. My fuck buddy, I guess.” 

Louis ignores the painful constricting in his chest that always happens when Harry says stuff like that. Regardless, there’s a purpose to what Louis is doing at the moment, and it has nothing to do with Louis’ feelings and everything to do with teasing Harry, so he needs to focus.

“You’ve called me, this, what we’re doing here...you’ve called it something else before,” Louis says. “Do you remember what that is?”

“A distraction,” Harry answers finally, and Louis immediately deep throats him again, only gagging slightly. Harry moans and Louis can see that he’s clenching his hands into fists. He pulls off again.

“Hmmm,” he says, wiping the saliva off his lips and looking up at Harry finally. “You certainly do seem distracted.” 

Harry gives a strangled laugh and thumps his head against the wall behind him. Louis smiles.

“You should fuck my mouth now,” he says, and Harry moves his head down to look at Louis’ face so quickly that Louis’ concerned he may have gotten whiplash. Louis makes eye contact with Harry and puts both of his hands behind his back, clearly indicating that he’s serious about what he wants Harry to do.

“You sure?” Harry says, and his voice sounds hoarse enough that you would think he has been the one sucking dick.

Louis nods once and closes his eyes. Harry’s hand is far too gentle when he touches the back of Louis’ head and guides his cock into Louis’ mouth, but Louis knows that his façade of control won’t be able to last through this. Louis’ jaw is probably going to hurt like a bitch when this is over, but it’ll be worth it. 

Harry is usually the one with the oral fixation, and Louis will admit that he’s not usually the first person to offer his mouth (he’d rather offer his arse), but Louis secretly loves having his mouth fucked. There’s something incredible about having someone’s attention focused on him like that, zeroed in on the way his mouth stretches around their cock, the softness of his hair under their fingers when they hold his head in place, the track of the tears down his cheeks when his eyes start to water. 

Louis hasn’t done this for Harry yet and it’s long overdue.

“Pinch me if you want me to stop or ease up a bit, okay, Lou?” Harry says, voice concerned, and Louis nods as much as he can with Harry’s cock in his mouth. “Alright, here goes,” Harry says. Louis thinks, _finally._

Harry starts out slowly, small thrusts into Louis’ mouth that don’t test his gag reflex. They remind Louis of the small reflexive thrusts that most guys give every time someone wraps lips around their dick, unable to help themselves for a split second, too overwhelmed by the wet heat. These beginner thrusts aren’t good enough for Louis, not by a long shot, but he knows he needs to be patient and let Harry work up to it.

Sometimes Louis wishes Harry could leave his politeness at the door, but he supposes that if that were possible, Harry wouldn’t be Harry. In the meantime, he holds his hands behind his back, closes his eyes, and lets Harry do his thing. 

After a few minutes of the weak stuff, Harry seems to realize that Louis genuinely does want this and isn’t going to back out anytime soon. Louis feels the hand on the back of his head tighten in his hair, not enough to hurt, but enough that the pressure of Harry’s hand can’t be ignored. 

When Harry starts thrusting for real, it takes a lot of effort for Louis to suppress his gag reflex enough that he’s not actively choking on Harry’s cock. He can feel the saliva already dripping down from his mouth and his eyes are watering, but when he looks up, Harry is looking down at him with a look of awe that makes Louis’ heart clench. 

It doesn’t mean anything, of course, aside from the fact that Harry likes the look of Louis when he has his mouth around Harry’s dick, but it means something to Louis that he’s doing this for Harry. This is something he enjoys, but he’s only willing to do it with people he really trusts. 

Louis has never trusted anyone more than he trusts Harry.

“God, Louis, you look incredible,” Harry says, thumbing at the wetness gathering in the corners of Louis’ eyes. “Your eyes, your mouth, all of it, I’m so.” He sounds like he’s losing it. 

Louis tries to maintain their eye contact, but Harry’s head thumps back against the wall again. Louis’ own dick is pressing insistently against the fly of his jeans, so he takes the opportunity to move one of his hands out from behind his back to palm himself. 

Louis is always into this, but it’s another level to do this for this particular man. To watch Harry lose control, hand holding Louis’ head in place while his hips grow more and more erratic, all because of Louis’ mouth stretched around him, well that. That is something that Louis couldn’t put into words even if he wanted to.

Louis can tell Harry is close to the edge when he thrusts too hard, really making Louis gag. He stops for a minute to make sure Louis’ okay, and it’s hard to see his expression fully in this lighting, but Louis knows he’s worried. 

“I’m fine, Harry, keep going,” he says, voice shot to hell. 

“Okay, but Lou, are you sure?” Harry says, and even though he sounds absolutely wrecked, his main concern is Louis. Louis nods frantically and opens his mouth, sighing in relief when Harry puts his cock back in and picks back up the rhythm he had before. Harry doesn’t go so far back in Louis’ throat again, as he’s likely trying to avoid killing Louis with his dick, but Louis can tell it’s taking every bit of concentration he has left to maintain even that much control. 

“Louis, fuck, baby,” Harry gasps out, and when Louis looks up, Harry is making eye contact again. It looks like a struggle to keep his eyes open, but his gaze is intense enough that Louis feels his face heat up. He knows he probably looks a mess, even in the poor lighting, hair messy, face sweaty and red, wet from how much he’s drooling around Harry’s cock, but Harry looks at him like he’s the best thing he’s ever seen. 

“I’m gonna come,” Harry says, as though Louis couldn’t already tell. Louis doesn’t bother heeding the warning, instead simply looking up at Harry and raising his eyebrows. When Harry comes in the back of his throat, Louis’ ready for it, swallowing around his dick and making him moan more loudly than he’s heard from Harry before. Louis presses his hand against his own groin one last time and follows him right over the edge, even as he’s still swallowing the last drops of Harry’s come.

Finally, Louis pulls off and wipes his mouth with his sleeve. He moves his jaw around a bit and winces a bit at the stiffness. 

“Did you just,” Harry begins, sounding out of breath and looking boneless. Louis imagines that his legs must feel like jelly, and he’s not surprised when Harry slides down the wall to sit down. 

Harry leans in to kiss him and Louis falls into it easily. He can probably still taste himself on Louis’ tongue, but if he doesn’t care, neither does Louis. 

“Did you just come?” Harry finally finishes his sentence, pulling back.

It’s clear that he already knows the answer, but Louis nods anyway. 

“I like it,” Louis says, gesturing ambiguously and hoping that Harry gets it. 

“You like having your face fucked,” Harry says, voice a strange mixture of smug and mesmerized. “You like it enough that you get off on it.”

Louis shrugs and leans forward to kiss Harry again, resting one palm right above Harry’s heart and curling the other around his neck. Louis is fully clothed and desperately needs to shower and change after coming in his pants like a bloody teenager, Harry is fully naked and looks like his mind has just been blown, and they both look messy and sated. 

“Sufficiently distracted?” Louis asks, thinking back to the conversation they were having earlier. 

“Always,” Harry says, and the smile that lights up his face almost makes up for the suffocating feeling in Louis’ chest. It’s the feeling Louis has been getting more and more lately whenever he reminds himself what role he is here to play in Harry’s life. He’s known it since the first day, of course, but every passing moment makes it harder to remember.

Just a distraction. 

 

* 

 

When Louis finally arrived at Liam’s flat several minutes ago, his friends were deep into a debate about whether they would be playing Truth Or Dare tonight. Gigi’s argument is that she never gets to pick the game and she’s tired of the lads always choosing what they do on Friday night, and Liam’s argument is that he’s too much of a baby to play. That isn’t exactly how he said it, but Louis takes some leeway when paraphrasing. He has a feeling tonight is going to end in disaster, but that’s half the fun of it.

“I really don’t think this is a good idea,” Liam repeats, looking slightly nervous. 

“Sophia lives here too and she’s in. You’re outmanned and outgunned on this one, Li, so give up now.” Gigi says, linking arms with Sophia and offering Liam a smug grin. Liam huffs, but doesn’t protest again as they all settle down on the sofas and the floor of the living room. 

“This is going to get gross or awkward, or a combination of the two,” Harry whispers to Louis as they claim a bit of floor space for themselves. Louis smiles. 

“That’s what I’m looking forward to,” He says, nudging Harry with his elbow.

Louis never played truth or dare much himself as a child, but he remembers his sisters playing it with their friends quite a bit. Regardless, the rules are simple. They sit in a circle (a lumpy circle, Louis observes as he scans the room) and each person is asked whether they want to choose truth or dare. If they choose truth, the person on their right gets to ask them a question and they have to answer honestly. If they choose dare, the person on their right gets to dare them to do something. 

“You have to do the dare under penalty of death,” Louis adds, and Liam is the only one who doesn’t crack a smile. 

Based on where they’re each sitting, they quickly decide that they’ll move clockwise around the circle, beginning with Gigi (who will be given questions or commands from Niall) and then moving to Zayn, Harry, Louis, Liam, Sophia, and Niall. Louis knows Harry will be brutal to him, but he’s still ridiculously pleased that he gets to fuck with Liam.

“Truth or dare,” Niall says to Gigi with a smirk, jumping right into things. There’s still a while before they get around to Niall, so he’s overly cocky at the moment. Gigi pretends to think deeply about her choices for a moment before choosing truth.

“Lame,” Zayn says to his girlfriend, clearly disappointed that she didn’t choose dare.

“I’m the first player, you prick,” Gigi says, smacking him on the shoulder. “I want to work up to the dares.” 

Niall gives an evil smile before presenting Gigi with her first truth. 

“Weirdest place you’ve had sex,” he says, and Gigi groans. 

Louis laughs loudly and leans across the circle to high five Niall, grateful that he didn’t go easy on her just because she’s Gigi and it was the first truth of the night. Gigi and Zayn are notoriously quiet about their sex lives, and while Louis certainly doesn’t complain about that because of how much he’s heard just from sharing a flat with Zayn, he knows Gigi will hate answering this question. 

Gigi’s face is buried in her hands and Zayn is rubbing her back as though she’s about to describe a trauma from her past. Louis knows he enjoys being dramatic, but honestly, all his friends are no better. Finally, Gigi lifts her head from her hands. She’s already bright red.

“The loo at an art gallery, probably,” she says, and it’s not that scandalous, but the entire group starts laughing anyway.

“Saw the Moaning Lisa and couldn’t help but get Gigi moaning too, eh?” Harry says to Zayn with a wink. When Louis sees the murderous look that Zayn sends Harry’s way, he hides his face against Harry’s shoulder and laughs. 

“That was a good one, right?” Harry whispers to him, ignoring the fact that Zayn still looks murderous, and Louis nods, still giggling. “Mona Lisa, Moaning Lisa, you get it, right?” Harry asks the group, and everyone looks at him like he just grew a second head. They’re all highly unamused.

“Yes, Harry, we get it, now shut up and let’s continue the game,” Gigi says, but it doesn’t wipe the smile off Harry’s face. Louis finally moves out of Harry’s personal space and wipes the tears from his eyes. Louis does give Harry shit for his jokes and puns sometimes, but he’s probably the only person in the world who enjoys them as much as Harry does. 

When Zayn chooses dare, Gigi gives Sophia a mischievous look that suggests they’re up to something. She dares Zayn to wax a bit of his leg hair off, much to his chagrin. 

“Are you serious?” He says, voice slightly hysterical. Gigi just laughs in response, and Sophia is already getting up and walking toward the loo to find a wax strip. 

“Babe, you’re gonna be nice and smooth,” she says. Zayn groans and rolls the leg of his jeans up to his knee, struggling slightly because of how tight they are. 

Gigi gets up to heat up the wax when Sophia brings the strip out, and for the first time since everyone arrived, Liam looks truly amused at what’s about to happen. It’s clear that Gigi and Sophia had been planning on doing this to Zayn, and Louis would be lying if he said he’s opposed to people torturing his flatmate in this manner.

When the wax is heated up, Gigi makes quick work of spreading it on Zayn’s calf, lays the strip down on top of it, and giggles. Zayn looks mildly terrified, and Louis has to roll his eyes at that.

“Oh please, Z, stop being such a whiner about this,” Louis says, and Zayn turns to glare at him.

“Just because you have a history of waxing parts of your body doesn’t mean that we’re all fine with carelessly ripping the hair out of our skin,” Zayn says in a biting voice, and Louis holds his hands up in defeat.

“Alright, alright,” he says, laughing, and that’s the moment Gigi chooses to pull the strip without warning.

Zayn shrieks and everyone doubles over laughing at his reaction as Gigi holds up the wax strip, now covered in Zayn’s leg hair. Louis turns to Harry to see his reaction, but instead of laughing with the rest of them, Harry’s gaze is resting on Louis and his eyes are dark. Harry leans in. 

“Waxing, hmm?” he says, lips to Louis’ ear, and he sounds intrigued enough that Louis shivers slightly. “What’s the story there?” Most of their friends probably assume Zayn knows details about Louis’ hair grooming habits because they’ve lived together for so long, but Harry knows Louis and Zayn’s interactions got quite a bit more intimate than that. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Louis whispers back.

Harry looks like he’s about to tell Louis that he would, in fact, love to know the details about that, but Zayn turns on him before he gets the chance. Louis is proud to hear Harry choose dare over truth, and he’s also quite entertained when Zayn tells Harry to pour ice cubes down his boxers. When Harry does it, Louis tries not to laugh too loudly about the gasping noises Harry lets out because he knows that he’ll be getting his own dare momentarily, but damn, it’s difficult. 

Louis watches Harry wiggle around like a wet noodle for two minutes until Zayn allows him to remove the ice. It would have been over quicker if Harry’s jeans weren’t so tight that the ice doesn’t have room to just fall to the bottom, but alas, he got himself into this situation. The look on Harry’s face is truly priceless, and when Louis looks around the room, he’s happy to see that both Sophia and Zayn are capturing the moment with their iPhones. Louis bites his finger to keep from laughing, but when Harry looks over at him, he knows he’s been caught.

“Truth or dare,” Harry says in a dangerous voice, hands still cupping his junk protectively. 

“Dare,” Louis says, maintaining eye contact. Harry can smell fear, so he has to be very careful.

Harry’s eyes scan the room as he thinks and when a smile lights up his face, Louis grits his teeth.

“Swap clothes with Gigi,” Harry says, and Louis glances over at Gigi. It could be much worse, honestly. Gigi wears some pretty wild outfits at times, but tonight, she’s just wearing a skirt, t-shirt, and leather jacket. It’s not the most comfortable of outfits for a game night, but Gigi never seems to care much about comfort. 

“Why am I getting roped into his dare?” Gigi whines, but she’s already getting up and heading to the bathroom. 

“I’ll do the clothing delivery,” Zayn says, and Liam tells Louis he can change in his and Sophia’s room.

Louis trudges to Liam and Sophia’s room down the hall, making it clear that he’s less than thrilled about the prospect of this dare. As soon as the door closes behind him, he eyes himself in the mirror about the dresser and sighs before stripping down to his boxers. He’s just pulling his jeans off his ankles when the door opens. Louis barely startles at the door, instead simply gathering his clothes in his hands to give to Zayn.

“I told them I needed to supervise,” Harry says from behind Louis, and Louis spins around just in time for Harry to step forward and kiss him. Louis should probably push him away and lecture him for forcing him to cross-dress in front of their friends, but Harry’s lips are soft and he tastes sweet. Louis is just dipping his tongue in for a taste when Zayn barges in a minute or so later.

“You two are honestly awful,” Zayn says, nose wrinkled in disgust when he tosses Gigi’s clothes to Louis. Louis scrambles to hand his jeans and t-shirt to Zayn, suddenly grateful that Gigi is slightly taller than him rather than shorter than him. The tightest fit will probably be the skirt around his bum, but all the clothing was oversized on Gigi, so he thinks he can make it work. 

Sure enough, Gigi’s t-shirt fits over his head without issue and the leather jacket is oversized enough to be comfortable, though Louis would have been in trouble if he had really broad shoulders like Harry. 

“You lack subtlety around our friends, you know,” Louis says as he eyes the skirt warily. Thanks to Zayn’s big mouth, Louis assumes all his friends are rolling their eyes in the living room right now because Louis and Harry can’t keep their hands off each other. Then again, they probably didn’t need Zayn to tell them what was happening in here after Harry trotted along after Louis. His intent was clear.

“Can’t resist you, I guess,” Harry says, eyes moving up and down Louis’ body. He looks amused watching Louis get dressed, but there’s a certain level of intent to his gaze that makes Louis’ face prickle with heat. 

Louis’ kisses goodbye the last of his dignity when he pulls the skirt up his legs, wincing when he has to do a little wiggle to try and squeeze it up over his bum. He can tell Harry’s biting his lip to keep from laughing. When it finally clears his hips, Louis lets out a sigh of relief. It’s tight, but not so tight that he’s concerned with ripping it, and he’s sure it makes his arse look obscene. 

“You look great,” Harry says, laughing, and Louis kisses him just to shut him up. He finally pushes Harry away, not wanting to delay the game any longer, and walks out into the living room. 

“Oh my god,” Gigi says, and when Louis looks over at her, she’s wearing his jeans and t-shirt so comfortably that anyone on the street would assume she put the clothes on by choice. As soon as Louis waddles out into the living room, arms folded across his chest, everyone bursts out laughing. Harry walks up behind him and wraps his arms around Louis while he pouts. 

“That’s a look,” Sophia says, giggling from where she’s leaning against Liam, and even Liam has tears in his eyes from laughing so hard. When Harry moves over to grab his camera from where it’s sitting on the table and snaps a few photos, Louis officially disowns all of his friends.

“I’m putting on a pair of your joggers, Payno,” Louis says when everyone has gotten their fill of laughing at him. He rolls his eyes and retreats back into Liam’s bedroom to change out of this outfit, diplomatically ignoring the harassing comments he hears about his bum when he walks away. It only takes a few seconds of digging around in the drawers he knows are Liam’s before he finds a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. They’re too big for him, but Louis likes wearing oversized clothes and he’s too impatient to wait for Gigi to change back into her clothes before he can have his back. 

When he returns to the living room, he settles down next to Harry again and gives a small sarcastic bow to the group. He knows the lads will never let him live this down, and that’s even without the photos. Truth or dare is a dangerous game, but Louis is always up for a challenge.

“I don’t like seeing you in Liam’s clothes,” Harry says quietly, squeezing Louis’ knee. 

Harry always makes his jealousy of Zayn and Liam clear, and Louis knows it’s probably just because Harry isn’t used to having a casual relationship and lets the lines cross in his head sometimes, but it’s difficult to convince Louis’ heart of that. He can feel himself getting false hope every time Harry makes a small jealous or possessive comment, only to be slapped back into reality the next time Harry makes it clear that his feelings for Louis are strictly platonic. 

“That’s too bad,” he says to Harry, keeping his voice casual. “Because I love wearing Liam’s clothes.”

Just because Louis knows the slap is coming doesn’t mean he’s not going to enjoy the jealousy while it lasts. 

Harry pouts at that, of course, so Louis kisses him quickly before turning to Liam for his truth or dare. Liam is watching him when he turns, so Louis intentionally avoids eye contact. He feels embarrassed at being caught.

Louis knows that his and Harry’s thing is atypical to the point of looking more like a normal relationship rather than a casual arrangement, but the constant judgment from his friends is frustrating. The last thing he needs is Liam or Zayn hearing Harry calling him “baby” or seeing how much they kiss even when they’re not actively hooking up. 

Thankfully, Liam doesn’t look like he’s going to comment, so Louis jumps back into the game. 

“Truth or dare?” Louis asks, already knowing that Liam is going to request a truth. Liam does, of course, but Louis has been thinking up the perfect truth to get his friend blushing since the last round. 

“What’s the weirdest porn you’ve ever watched?” He asks, enjoying the way Liam’s mouth drops open.

Liam turns beet red immediately and even Sophia, who is normally quite composed, chokes on her own saliva when she hears the question her boyfriend has to answer. Louis takes a few seconds to fist bump Harry, Zayn, and Niall.

“I don’t,” Liam says, looking around awkwardly without finishing his sentence. 

Louis shakes his head. “Don’t even try, mate, just answer the question.” 

Liam covers his face with his hands and Sophia reaches out to gently rub his back, smile on her face.

“I watched porn where people were role playing as Captain America and the Winter Soldier,” Liam says quickly, not uncovering his face. In a split second, the entire room, including the loud sounds of chewing coming from Niall’s direction, goes silent. 

This time it’s Louis’ mouth that’s dropping open. “That’s gay porn, Liam,” he says, and Liam groans in distress.

“I was curious!” He exclaims, finally uncovering his face, which is roughly the shade of a tomato. “I wasn’t into it!” 

That’s when the room loses it. Louis first, immediately followed by the other lads and Gigi, and finally, Sophia, who has her hand over her mouth and has clearly been trying to hold it in. When she bursts out laughing and Liam sees that she isn’t angry or upset, he finally cracks a sheepish smile. 

Louis and Harry are draped over each other, stomachs hurting from laughing so hard, and if Louis thought he would never live down wearing Gigi’s outfit, that has nothing on how much he’s going to torment Liam with this newly revealed information. Every time Louis’ laughter starts to die down, he pictures the look on Liam’s face when he watched someone dressed as Captain America fucking someone dressed as the Winter Soldier and he loses it again. 

It takes them almost ten minutes to stop laughing at Liam, much to his dismay, and the game moves more quickly for a while after that. Liam dares Sophia lick the toilet seat, which she doesn’t seem particularly disturbed by (“I cleaned it yesterday, hah!” She says, pumping a fist in the air). Sophia dares Niall to drink half a bottle of ketchup, which doesn’t end the way anyone planned (“That wasn’t bad, actually,” Niall said, and at least three of the group dry-heaved at that). Niall retaliates somewhat by daring Gigi to drink a jar of pickle juice, which she struggles to keep down (“I like pickles, but not this much”). Zayn refuses to kiss her until she washes out her mouth, so Gigi dares Zayn to chat up a pillow (“You’re certainly not getting laid tonight, darling, so you might as well try to convince the pillow to love you”). 

"I want a dare, Zayn," Harry says for his next round. 

"Do push-ups until it's your turn again," Zayn says, and Harry pouts. "I'll just ask Louis his question since you'll be otherwise occupied."

Harry can do more push-ups than all of them except Liam, probably, though he's closely matched by Gigi, who has a workout routine that makes Louis' muscles ache just thinking about it. Louis is glad Zayn chose this dare because he'll be kissing Harry later and this means he won't have eaten something gross. Besides, it never hurts to get a good look at Harry's biceps hard at work.

Harry walks over to where there's space for him to stretch out his body and starts doing the push-ups without further protest, clearly showing off.

Louis chooses truth next, hoping to switch things up, but he has to tear his eyes away from Harry's body first. 

“What did you last cry about?” Zayn asks, smirking, and Louis can’t even pretend to be surprised. He’s the crybaby of the group for sure, always getting weepy during romantic comedies and whenever he sees his family and whenever he thinks about how hopeless his situation with Harry is and many other times, actually. All his friends know this about him. Harry always tells Louis that it’s cute, but Louis knows his crying face begs to differ with that assessment. The rest of the boys aren’t so generous and tease him mercilessly for crying at silly things, though of course they’d never say anything when he’s genuinely upset about something.

Louis tries to think back to the last time he cried, but nothing comes to mind immediately. 

“It was while we were watching that film,” Harry says suddenly from where he's doing the push-ups, sounding slightly out of breath from exertion. “The one with Tom Hanks and the ball.”

Louis remembers. “Cast Away! Yes, that film. Spoiler alert, but I cried at the bit when Wilson floated away.” His friends chuckle, as most of them have seen the film themselves and know what part he’s referring to. “That was his only friend while he was stranded! It was heartbreaking. I won’t apologize just because my mates have the emotional range of a teaspoon,” Louis says, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Zayn tells Harry he can stop doing the push-ups and he collapses onto his stomach on the floor.

"You've killed me," he moans dramatically, and he refuses to get up until Louis goes over to drag him back to where their friends are sitting. When he does, Harry smiles and leans in to kiss his cheek.

Liam picks dare next, which makes Louis smile.

“Send a message to someone on Facebook confessing your love for them. Soph, you decide who he sends it to, and Liam, you’re not allowed to tell them it was a joke for two days.” 

Liam pales. Louis cackles. 

Sophia chooses a male trainer from the gym Liam used to go to back home in Wolverhampton and makes sure to hide his relationship status on Facebook in the meantime.

Next up, Liam makes Sophia pay for helping send that message on Facebook by daring her to use terrible pickup lines on the first four people she sees downstairs. Liam and Niall both go down to supervise, and when they come back upstairs, Sophia looks more embarrassed than she ever has before in her life. 

“Two of the people were a couple and they thought I was looking for a threesome,” she moans, face planting onto the floor near where Harry had been doing push-ups.

Niall requests a truth for his round and ends up revealing that the weirdest sex dream he’s ever had was with Demi Lovato. His description starts out sounding quite normal, actually, but that’s only until he reveals that Gigi’s cat, Pineapple, was watching the entire time from the end of the bed. (“You’re never getting near Pineapple again,” Gigi tells him, but Niall responds by saying he has no interest in getting near that creepy sex-watching cat anyway). 

Clearly offended by Gigi’s lack of sympathy for his bizarre sex dream, Niall dares her to drink a shot glass full of soy sauce and mayonnaise. Louis tends to have a strong stomach for gross food combinations, but even he has to look away when she does it. After running to the kitchen to spit it out in the sink, Gigi returns to declare that she cannot continue and will be watching for the remainder of the game. 

“You’re the one who suggested it in the first place!” Liam says, and Gigi shrugs.

“I almost just died, Liam,” she says, voice serious. “Zayn, you have to pick truth or dare.”

“Dare,” Zayn says, eyeing Gigi wearily. She has nothing to lose at this point, which makes her even more dangerous.

Gigi looks around the room, clearly looking for ideas of what she should have her boyfriend do. Louis is caught up in a story that Harry has been whispering in his ear for the last few minutes, so he’s only half paying attention to the game going on around them. Harry’s hand is on his thigh and their faces are close together, but Louis doesn’t think they look that coupley until he sees Gigi’s eyes land on them.

“Zayn, do a tequila body shot off of Louis,” Gigi says, a sly smile slowing lighting up her face. 

Louis jerks away from Harry out of surprise upon hearing his name and looks over at Zayn and Gigi. Zayn is sending Gigi an irritated look, but she has a serene smile on her face and isn’t paying attention to him. Instead, she’s focused on Harry. When Louis follows her gaze and he sees Harry’s furrowed brows, Louis knows exactly what she’s doing. Gigi is the only person who knows about Louis and Zayn’s history aside from Harry, which makes sense considering she’s Zayn’s girlfriend, but she’s clearly using that knowledge for evil. 

“Um,” Harry says. Louis ignores him and gets to his feet before following Zayn into the kitchen. 

“Your girlfriend is a menace,” Louis says quietly as he rummages around in the fruit bowl for a lime.

“You’re telling me,” Zayn says back just as quietly. “It’s my dare, but I’m being used as a tool to make your fuck buddy and longtime crush jealous. Something doesn’t seem fair here.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “We can make Harry jealous a million more times, but it’s still not going to make him want to date me,” he says as he plucks the lime out of the bowl. Zayn shrugs. He has the salt and tequila in his hands, so they return to the living room together.

Louis strips off Liam’s t-shirt and lies down on the wood floor to avoid anything spilling on the rug. Everyone who doesn’t have a good view from where they’re sitting gets up to watch, and while Gigi and Sophia are nudging each other and giggling, Harry looks vaguely murderous. Louis tries not to look in his direction, instead putting a lime wedge in his mouth as Zayn tries to figure out how they’re going to do this. 

“Salt between his collarbones, liquor on his stomach,” Gigi says with a laugh, and Zayn mumbles insults under his breath as he follows her command. Louis closes his eyes and tries to keep his body completely still when the tequila is poured onto it, not wanting to be a sticky mess the rest of the night. 

“Here goes,” he hears Zayn say, and Louis feels his flatmate’s tongue on his body a few seconds later. Louis is too ticklish for this type of thing and he has to bite his lip to keep from laughing, but the lime is being plucked from his mouth in no time at all, and then it’s over. Zayn kept it as PG as possible by avoiding any contact between their lips when he grabbed the lime and making everything go very quickly, and Louis is very appreciative of that.

“Ugh,” Louis says as he gets up, ignoring Zayn, who is still wincing at the taste of tequila lingering in his mouth. 

“I’m the one who had to do the shot!” Zayn says grumpily, and Louis levels him a harsh stare. 

“I’m the one who is all sticky with tequila because of your evil girlfriend,” Louis calls over his shoulder. He goes to the loo to wipe any leftover alcohol off his chest and put Liam’s shirt back on, hoping to avoid an even stickier situation. Zayn didn’t pour much alcohol on him in the first place, so it only takes a couple of minutes to wipe the remnants off and return to the living room. He immediately sees that Harry moved to the sofa, so Louis settles down in the empty spot next to him.

Harry chooses truth for his next turn, and when Zayn asks him for his most embarrassing moment, Harry has to describe the time that he tripped and fell down the stairs in front of several of Kendall’s model friends when he was meeting them for the first time. He hadn’t been hurt beyond bruises, thankfully, but Louis still remembers how embarrassed Harry had been when he told the story right after it happened. 

When Harry finishes explaining, Louis asks Harry for a dare, but he regrets it as soon as he sees the look on Harry’s face. He looks way too pleased about something. Louis eyes him suspiciously. 

“I dare you to give me a lap dance,” Harry says, ignoring the groans and protests from the rest of their friends.

“I’m into it,” Niall says from where he’s perched on the arm of the other sofa, and Louis doesn’t have to look over at him to know that he’s smirking. 

“Shut up, Niall,” Louis says, and Niall cackles. 

Harry smiles at him and pats his lap obnoxiously, so Louis gets to his feet. 

“I don’t like this,” Louis says, feeling slightly embarrassed about what he’s about to have to do in front of his friends. When Louis glances around the room, however, he sees that they’re all covering their eyes with their hands. Even Niall, though Louis assumes he’s only doing that so Louis has some privacy rather than because he doesn’t want to watch this. “I’m not making this sensual, lads, Gigi, Sophia — so you can calm down.” 

Zayn peeks out from behind his fingers for a moment. “Bro, I don’t think you have to even try to make it sensual when you’ve got that bum.”

“Harry’s too easy for you, so this could get graphic real quick,” Sophia adds, hands still over her eyes, and Louis groans. Harry still has a smirk on his face and is looking at Louis expectantly. 

Louis has no idea how to give a lap dance, but he positions in front of Harry and moves his arse around, checking behind him every few seconds to make sure Harry is drooling at the sight of his bum. (He is). All of their friends still have their eyes hidden and are laughing and muttering to themselves, so Louis decides to just go for it.

He straddles Harry’s lap and wraps his arms around his neck, grinding his arse down into Harry’s groin and acting more obscene than Louis would normally ever act outside of the bedroom. Since none of their friends are even watching, Louis has the luxury of getting Harry as turned on as possible without having to deal with the serious embarrassment that would come if others were witnessing this. That being said, he knows he has to act quickly. The last thing he needs is everyone getting tired of waiting and peeking out at what’s happening. Niall would be the first to cave for sure. 

“Baby,” Harry lets slip when Louis grinds down again, and Louis hopes nobody heard that. Harry leans up to try to kiss him, but Louis holds him down by the shoulders, giving a few more good grinds down onto Harry’s rapidly hardening dick before getting off his lap and flopping down on the sofa next to Harry. 

Harry leans in to try to kiss him again, but Louis just shakes his head with a smile. He’s not giving in that easily. 

“Is it safe?” Gigi asks, and Louis laughs when Harry immediately reaches down to adjust himself in his jeans. 

“One second,” Louis says. “Harry’s having a bit of a problem, but I’ll tell you when.” 

Zayn and Liam make identical sounds of disgust while Harry tries to hide his erection as much as is possible with pants that tight, and Louis just watches him with an overwhelming feeling of accomplishment. 

“Okay, it’s safe,” Louis says when Harry’s hand is back out of his jeans. Harry glares at him, but he just pats Harry’s knee with a condescending look of sympathy and a wink. He’ll probably pay for this later, but Harry has quite a few things to pay for as well. 

“Truth or dare, Liam, let’s go,” Louis says, redirecting his attention to the man who has been suffering immensely from secondhand embarrassment since this evening began. 

“Dare,” Liam says. He already looks like he regrets it. 

“Twerk.”

Liam chokes on the sip of beer he was drinking. “Excuse me?” He says, looking at Sophia for backup. Sophia throws her hands up helplessly, but she looks like she wants to laugh. “I don’t know why we’re friends,” Liam tells Louis, but he gets up and makes the saddest attempt at twerking Louis has ever seen — and that includes the time Harry tried.

When Louis stops laughing and Liam asks Sophia whether she wants a truth or a dare, he takes the chance to excuse himself. “I gotta piss,” he says to whoever is listening, which is basically only Harry, and then ducks out of the room.

Louis goes to the loo, washes his hands quickly, and fixes his fringe in the mirror before exiting. 

As soon as he steps out into the hallway, he sees Harry leaning against the wall just outside. 

“Need the toilet?” Louis asks, unsure of why Harry is waiting there. Harry just shakes his head. 

Louis moves into Harry’s personal space and leans up to kiss him, hands already snaking around to Harry’s neck, and Harry doesn’t hesitate to spin them around so Louis is the one against the wall. 

“You like doing that a little too much,” Louis says, wind knocked out of him slightly from the movement. 

Harry just kisses him again, tongue begging for entrance into Louis’ mouth, and it doesn’t take long for it to get heated. Louis can hear Sophia daring Niall to draw a dick on his arm and then wear it on the tube home tonight, and he’s grateful that their friends are being loud enough that they probably can’t hear Louis and Harry making out just down the hall.

“You’re so hot,” Harry groans against Louis’ lips, moving his hands down to Louis’ arse and squeezing. “Putting on Gigi’s skirt, taking your shirt off and getting doused in tequila, grinding your arse down on me like that. You’re always driving me crazy in front of our friends, Lou,” he says, voice low.

“I’ve gotta level the playing field,” Louis says, moving his lips along Harry’s neck. “’Cause every time I see you, I want to climb you like a tree.” 

Harry gives a small laugh at that, but it ends in a strangled gasp when Louis cups his hand over Harry’s cock. 

“I want you,” Harry whispers, kissing Louis hard as Louis unbuttons his jeans as quietly as he can. “Ever since you put on Liam’s fucking clothes, I’ve wanted you out of them.”

“God, Harry,” Louis says, leaning his head against Harry’s shoulder to regain his composure, which proves to be nearly impossible when Harry reaches inside his sweatpants. Louis forces his head back up to make eye contact while he pulls Harry’s cock out of his jeans. “I want that too,” he breathes out, and Harry squeezes his eyes closed. “I’d let you fuck me against this wall, I’d drop to my knees right here or I’d make you do it for me. I wouldn’t give a fuck if they all heard us, okay, I wouldn’t care. Just want your hands, your mouth, your dick, all of it. That’s what I want.” 

Harry’s mouth is wet and his gaze is piercing, and he looks like he wants to devour Louis whole. The feeling is mutual.

Within a few minutes, they’re jerking each other off without finesse, panting into each others’ mouths as they try to get off before they’re caught. The game of truth or dare is continuing in the room living without them, and Louis imagines that their friends all have a fairly good idea of what’s happening between Harry and Louis at the moment, but he can’t bring himself to care. Not when Harry’s cock is hot in his hand and Harry’s touching him the way he likes best. 

“Nothing feels better than you, Lou, you know that?” Harry says in a low voice. “When I’m inside you, I’m like, if this is it, if this is the last thing I do, I don’t care. I’m good.” He sounds completely overwhelmed from a quick handjob in the hallway, and after hearing those words, Louis kisses him again and comes.

“I can give you a real private lap dance later, love,” Louis whispers into Harry’s ear when he recovers, picking up his quick rhythm on Harry’s cock again, and it doesn’t take more than another few strokes for Harry to spill into his hand.

“That was really something,” Harry says finally, still slightly out of breath. 

Louis pushes Harry backwards into the loo so they can rinse their hands off, and when he glances down, he sees a small spot of come on Liam’s sweatpants.

“Fuck,” Louis says, frantically dabbing water on the spot. Harry looks less alarmed and more smug than he should, so Louis elbows him. “Go out there, I’ll follow you out in a minute. Not like we’re fooling them, but it is what it is.” 

When Harry returns to the living room, Louis can hear the snide comments from their friends at his long absence from the game. He hopes they get all of the teasing out of their system before he goes out there.

It only takes another few seconds of scrubbing for the stain to be less visible on the sweatpants, and since Louis plans on washing the outfit and returning it to Liam at a later date anyway, he decides not to worry about it. 

Even though he knows Harry just returned to the living room, he almost feels disappointed when he doesn’t see him leaning against the wall just outside the loo. As Louis starts to walk down the hall, he hears Zayn asking Liam a truth question.

“Have you ever been in love with someone and not told them?” Zayn asks, and Louis stops in his tracks. 

He thinks about the hope that blossoms in his stomach every time Harry treats him like a boyfriend or says something sappy to him when they’re hooking up, and then he thinks about every time Harry tells him that this is casual, just for fun, meaningless sex. He thinks about all the times he’s agreed with Harry saying that it’s meaningless and how his heart crumbles a little more every time even though he always tries to remind himself to control his feelings. 

“No,” Liam says. “I try to be honest about all that stuff.” 

Louis counts to ten before he reenters the room.

 

* 

 

Louis is slightly drunk and very high, and it’s been far too long since they had a night like this. Adulthood means less time for video games and weed, but every once in a while, they have to return to their roots. Sometimes it’s nice to just lounge on sofas and pretend they’re still in uni without a care in the world.

Louis, Harry, and Zayn have been playing video games at Gigi’s for hours. Gigi’s already ducked off to bed, exhausted from a long day, but she told them to stay as long as they want, so here they are. Zayn is staying over for the night anyway, which is probably a good thing considering how drunk he is.

“Louis, I think I’m going to do that human art project I used you for with a few more people,” Zayn says, lazy grin on his face. Zayn is slumped down on the sofa like he’s trying to become a part of it. He looks very comfortable. 

Louis takes the joint from Harry and inhales deeply. 

“That’s sick, mate, but consider improving work conditions,” Louis says after exhaling. 

Zayn giggles and takes another sip of the drink in his hand. He’s flipping through channels on the TV aimlessly looking for something to watch, so Louis turns his attention back to Harry.

Harry seems to have recovered from his constant string of failures while they were playing video games. He’s sitting back against the sofa, eyes red and watery, hair pushed back with one of Gigi’s headbands, soft smile on his face. If Louis hasn’t smoked weed in a while, Harry hasn’t smoked in even longer, and it shows. He looks happy and calm, but he’s definitely feeling the effects more than he would have when they were still in their prime.

Louis inhales again and holds the joint carefully as he leans, and despite his slow reflexes tonight, Harry catches on quick. He opens his mouth so Louis can exhale into it, and when Louis leans back, Harry blows out the smoke in his best attempt at a smoke ring. It could use some work, definitely, but Louis decides to give him a break this time.

“Don’t remind me about that day,” Harry says slowly, referring to the day when Louis was Zayn’s art project, and Louis rolls his eyes. He thinks about how Harry was jealous to the point of following Louis into the shower and rimming him. It’s only been a couple of months since then, but it feels like it’s been years.

Louis leans forward to kiss Harry quickly on the lips.

“I have some great memories from that day, actually,” he says, and Harry’s eyes darken.

He’s considering the possibility of lazy sex with Harry after they finally find the energy to leave Gigi’s, and that’s when Zayn slaps his arm with a magazine that must have been lying around. Louis hands the joint to Harry just in case he’s about to have some kind of smackdown with Zayn.

“Do you two ever stop?” Zayn asks when Louis glares at him. He gestures ambiguously, but Louis knows he’s asking whether he and Harry ever stop being all over each other. The answer to that question lately is no. 

“There should be laws against your level of PDA,” Zayn mutters, and Louis looks over at Harry just in time to see him laugh on an inhale and start coughing. 

“Stop acting like an amateur,” Zayn says, giggling, and this time it’s Louis’ turn to smack him.

“Don’t be a prick,” he says before gently thumping Harry on the back while he coughs. “You alright? Want some water or something?” Louis knows Harry’s a grown man and will survive the coughing fit, but it’s never a fun feeling to have smoke enter your lungs the way it just did Harry’s.

Harry takes several deep breaths and gets himself together. “Fuck, I forgot how brutal that is,” he says, and Louis nods sympathetically. “I’m going to grab a glass of water and clean up the kitchen a bit so Gigi will actually talk to us the next time we see her.” With that, he leans in to kiss Louis again quickly before getting up to walk to the kitchen. 

“When are you two getting together for real? God, this is torture,” Zayn groans as soon as Harry’s out of earshot. 

Louis sighs and rubs his hand over his face, suddenly feeling exhausted.

“Not gonna happen, bro,” Louis says. He keeps his eyes on the TV even after Zayn hits the button and the screen turns black. “I don’t think he even sees how much we act like a couple. We spend so much time together, and we were already spending a shitload of time together before we started hooking up, but he just keeps repeating the same stuff over and over. ‘This is fun, Louis,’ he says. ‘You’re a good distraction, Louis,’ he says. I feel like I’m going to be waiting forever for him to wake the fuck up because every time I get my hopes up, he drags them right back down.”

Zayn sighs heavily next to him and Louis finally looks over at him.

“I met this guy the other day, another artist. Can’t remember his name, but it’s not important anyway. I was telling him about Gigi and he was laughing. Said he was happy for me and all that, but he explained that he’s so not a ‘one person forever’ type of guy.” Zayn shakes his head.

“What, he just doesn’t do relationships?” Louis asks. He knows a few people like that, but a lot of people grow out of that stage after uni. Louis might be biased because he found the love of his life when he was 20 years old, even if Harry doesn’t think of him the same way, but he doesn’t think he would ever be able to just date around indefinitely without ever wanting to commit.

“Not even that,” Zayn says, interrupting his thoughts. Louis frowns. “He said he falls in love easily, but he falls in love ‘for a moment.’ Dates someone for a while, falls in love with them, and then moves on when he meets someone he finds interesting, or when he gets bored, or when feels like the relationship has gone on too long. And then he moves onto the next girl, falls hard for her, and eventually gets bored again. Wash, rinse, repeat. Can you imagine?”

Louis shakes his head. “I can’t imagine a love that temporary,” he says, thinking about the fact that he’s been in love for four years despite knowing that there’s a really good chance that nothing will come of it. What that man described to Zayn doesn’t even sound like love to Louis, honestly. It sounds like lust, or a temporary obsession, but not love.

“It must be nice,” Zayn says, and when Louis looks at him, his eyes are sad. Not for himself, of course. Louis knows Zayn is ridiculously happy with Gigi and honestly, he’s counting down to their engagement. Zayn is sad for Louis.

Louis isn’t sure when the mood of tonight dropped so sharply. 

“Yeah, it must,” he says, and when Zayn looks at him, he pulls a funny face just to try and lift the mood. 

“Imagine,” Zayn says, sitting up and moving his hands in a motion that reminds Louis of a film director about to explain his vision to the cast and crew. “Imagine an alternate universe with a different version of Louis than you are, alright?”

Louis has no idea where this is going, but he shrugs and nods.

“Now, this Louis, he’s a man who falls in love as easily as everyone else breathes. Enter his bed, and he’s yours for life...nah, that’s just a joke. He’s only yours until the next man comes along. Louis, the most fickle of fellows,” Zayn says, and he’s loud enough now that Louis elbows him. Zayn just laughs and continues, now having switched out of third person. “First there was Sebastian back when you were, what, 19? Then there was me, of course, followed by Jon, and then Greg. And now, of course, there’s our good friend—” Louis puts his hand over Zayn’s mouth before he can say Harry’s name. Louis is actually surprised Harry hasn’t already come back considering how loud Zayn is being.

“Fuck you,” Louis says, but he’s smiling, and Zayn’s eyes are fond. In this moment, Louis feels like his heart could burst with affection for his best friend and soon-to-be former flatmate. It’s been just over four years since Louis and Harry met at that potluck, since Harry met all of them at that potluck, and Zayn has known how Louis felt about Harry since day one. 

Zayn has been there for all the nights of Louis moping over Harry, and Zayn was there every morning after Louis tried to find another boy to help him forget Harry. He would help Louis with his hangover and reassure him that he wasn’t fucked up, even if that wasn’t quite the truth. Sometimes, Zayn was the boy Louis used to try to forget Harry, and he knew it, but he never made Louis feel pathetic or guilty. He just supported him, listened to him when he cried, told him that he deserved the world, and reassured him that he would find it one day.

Zayn has been by his side, ever the loyal best friend, throughout it all. 

“I wish,” Louis says after a moment of silence, voice very quiet as he leans his head on Zayn’s shoulder. “Sometimes I wish I were like that.” 

“Then you wouldn’t be you,” Zayn says just as quietly, brushing the hair off of Louis’ forehead. 

Louis’ eyes are wet when he smiles. 

Harry finally returns a minute or so later, and he already has his coat on. Louis figured they would stay another half an hour or so, but he’s feeling tired and a bit weepy, so he’s not going to complain about leaving earlier.

“You want to go now?” Louis asks, sitting up and yawning.

Harry shrugs and nods. He looks grumpy, brows furrowed and dimple nowhere to be found. Harry always gets moody when he drinks and smokes, so when Louis gives Zayn a look, Zayn just shakes his head and sighs.

Louis gets up to grab his coat. He starts to tidy up some of the beer bottles littering the table since Harry did his part by cleaning up the kitchen, but Zayn just waves him off. Louis doubts Zayn will even make it to Gigi’s bed tonight considering how heavy his eyelids look; Gigi will probably find him curled up on the sofa when she wakes up.

“G’night, Z,” Louis says, leaning in and giving Zayn a tight hug. Zayn has a soft look on his face when he pulls back, likely because of their previous conversation, and he pinches Louis’ cheek affectionately. 

“Goodnight, Tommo,” Zayn says before turning his attention toward Harry. Harry doesn’t exactly look like he’s in the hugging mood at the moment, but he hugs Zayn back stiffly when he leans in. Louis sighs. He’s betting that lazy sex is not on the menu for tonight unless Harry’s mood improves drastically on the way back to his flat. 

Louis and Harry leave after Harry says goodnight and thank you to Zayn, and they walk down the stairs of Gigi’s building in silence. The air outside is cool, and Louis shivers when they pause on the pavement to call a cab.

“I’m exhausted, Lou,” Harry says. “Do you think we can sleep separately tonight? I just really need rest.” 

Louis frowns as a car drives by too quickly, blowing more cold air in his direction. He and Harry sleep together quite frequently without having to hook up, so he’s not sure why Harry needs to sleep separately to get some rest, but sometimes people need their space. Louis respects that.

“Yeah, sure, um. I guess I’ll just get a different cab,” he says, and Harry gives him a small smile. 

When Harry’s cab arrives, Louis holds onto the lapels of his coat and kisses him deeply. When Harry pulls away, he looks slightly dazed, as though he didn’t quite expect Louis to do that.

“Hope you feel better, babe,” Louis says, giving Harry a warm smile.

Harry’s eyes look like they’re boring into Louis’ soul. He almost wants to flinch because of how Harry is looking at him, but he’s quite used to Harry’s intense looks after all these years.

“Goodnight, Lou,” Harry says as he gets into the car, and then the door closes, the car pulls away, and he’s gone.

 

* 

 

“I hate rum and coke though,” Louis protests as Sophia shoves her glass into his hand. 

Sophia rolls her eyes and adjusts the strap on her dress. “Shut up, you big baby,” she says. “You have higher alcohol tolerance and I need to slow down for a bit. The least you can do is not let my drink go to waste.” 

With that, Sophia grabs Gigi’s wrist and pulls her toward the dance floor. Louis stares after her, not quite believing that she just forced her drink into his hand and abandoned him. 

“Women,” Niall says, flopping down on the sofa next to Louis. “Can’t live with ‘em, can’t live without ‘em.” 

Louis lets his eyes scan Niall’s shirt, which is soaked through with what looks like half of the pint in his hand. Niall is notorious for spilling drinks on himself in clubs, and clearly tonight is no exception. 

“Men,” Louis says, one eyebrow high in the air. “Can’t live with ‘em, can’t live without ‘em.” 

His look is judgmental enough to make lesser men squirm, but Niall isn’t a lesser man. Instead, he just laughs loudly at Louis’ response before leaning forward to give Louis a one-armed hug. 

“That’s why I love you, mate,” Niall says, and that doesn’t really make sense, but Louis appreciates it. “Speaking of men you can’t live with and can’t live without, where the fuck did Harry go?”

Louis hums. That’s actually a good question. They’ve only been at the club about an hour or so, but he and Harry would normally be dancing by now. Harry was chatting with some people he said are regulars at the bakery last time Louis saw him, but that was before Louis went to the bar for his last drink. Said drink is long gone and has now been replaced with Sophia’s drink, so Louis thinks it’s way overdue that he track Harry down. 

“Guard this with your life, mate,” Louis says, handing Niall his glass. 

“I will,” Niall says, turning his attention toward Liam and Zayn, who are deep in a serious conversation as though they aren’t in a club watching people drunkenly dancing along to blaring music all around them.

The place they’re at tonight isn’t very big, but it’s very crowded, so it’s not particularly easy to fight through the people milling about, dancing, drinking, and laughing without concern for Louis’ current search party. He decides to start where Harry had been chatting with the customers earlier, right by the end of the bar near the dance floor. 

Louis weaves his way through in that general direction, but he doesn’t see Harry standing where he was before, nor does he see the people he was talking to. Louis would text or call Harry to ask where the fuck he’s gone, but he knows there’s no way Harry will hear it with the bass this loud. 

Louis is just about to return to their friends in the hopes that Harry will find his way over soon when he spots him. Harry is only a few meters away from Louis, but he didn’t see him right away because he didn’t expect to see Harry dancing with someone. The man’s arms are around Harry’s neck where Louis’ usually rest, and Harry’s hands are low on the man’s hips. Louis feels like he’s going to throw up. 

They’re not doing anything, really. Louis knows that. It’s not like Harry is kissing this guy, or grabbing this guys’ ass, or anything like that, but Louis doesn’t understand why Harry is doing this with some random guy when he knows Louis is in the same club. Louis can tell from one look that there’s intent to their dancing, even if Harry doesn’t actually plan on following through. Harry knows what that guy wants, and he’s there dancing with him anyway.

Louis stands in shock for a minute, nausea churning in his gut, and he pictures a thousand different overdramatic scenarios where he goes over there and pulls Harry away, punches the guy in the face, punches Harry in the face, screams and cries, or storms out of the club. Louis somehow wants to do all of that at the same time, but he knows he can’t.

Louis doesn’t want to watch this anymore, so instead he turns around, pushing through the crowd until he makes it back to where his friends are sitting. When he grabs Sophia’s drink out from in front of Niall without saying anything, Niall looks up at him.

“Are you okay, Tommo?” Niall says, frowning. “You look like you just saw a ghost.” 

Louis laughs and it sounds a bit hysterical even to his own ears. 

“I saw something worse than a ghost, Nialler,” he says, and he knows he sounds bitter, but he can’t help it.

He has Zayn and Liam’s attention now, and all three of them are looking at him with concern. 

“Harry’s dancing with some guy,” Louis says finally, collapsing into the empty spot between Niall and Liam. Niall’s mouth drops open involuntarily.

“You’re kidding,” he says, clearly not quite believing it. Louis doesn’t quite believe it either. He and Harry never agreed to be exclusive and Louis knows that Harry could find someone he’s interested in whenever he wants, but for some reason, this really caught him off guard. Harry’s mood has been off the past few days, but Louis just assumed it was work stress and hoped tonight would help snap him out of it. Apparently that worked, but not in the way Louis was hoping for. 

“I’m going to talk to him,” Zayn says angrily, slamming his drink down and getting to his feet. 

“No, Z,” Louis protests, reaching out to grab Zayn’s arm. “Just leave it, please.”

Liam sighs heavily, and Louis drops his head down onto his friend’s shoulder. 

They sit there in silence for the next few minutes as the rave continues around them, bright lights flashing, loud music blasting, attractive bodies dancing. Louis tries to focus his attention on watching Sophia and Gigi dancing not far away from them. They’re laughing and look like they’re having a blast, and Louis wishes he hadn’t gone to look for Harry because then he would probably be with them having fun too. Ignorance is bliss, as they say. 

Niall is sipping on his drink and looking very uncomfortable, Liam keeps sighing heavily while Louis leans on his shoulder, and Louis can’t see Zayn’s face at the moment, but he knows he’s probably silently fuming. Harry and Zayn are close, but Zayn’s friendship with Louis is on another level. Louis knows Zayn would do anything for him.

Louis closes his eyes and wishes he was anywhere but here, and of course, that’s when Harry decides to show up. He looks slightly sweaty, but otherwise, not as disheveled as Louis would expect him to look if he just made out with that guy. Louis still feels slightly ill looking at him, but he feels fairly confident that all Harry did was dance. Still, that doesn’t stop the eruption of jealousy in his body.

“Alright, Louis?” Harry asks, frowning when he sees that Louis is leaning on Liam’s shoulder. Louis doesn’t say anything.

“Did you have fun dancing with some random arsehole, Harry?” Zayn asks, voice sarcastic and biting. Louis squeezes his eyes closed. He loves Zayn to death, but for someone who’s usually introverted, Zayn sure can get fired up sometimes.

When Louis reopens his eyes, Harry is staring at him with a slight frown. Louis can’t quite identify whether the look on his face is fear or guilt or sympathy, so he looks away quickly.

“I think I’m gonna go,” he says finally. He feels an overwhelming cocktail of emotions, including jealousy, sadness, and anger, and he knows sticking around will only lead to unnecessary fighting between he and Harry, or Harry and Zayn, or Harry and Liam, or Louis and Zayn, or any other combination possible. 

Louis doesn’t look at Harry when he hugs Liam, Zayn, and Niall goodbye. He doesn’t look at Harry when he asks them to tell Gigi and Sophia that he left. He doesn’t look at Harry when he shrugs on his jacket. He doesn’t look at Harry when he offers his friends one last weak smile and turns his back on the group, walking toward the exit. 

“Get your shit together, Harry, or I swear to god,” is the last thing that Louis hears as he’s walking away. He expects it to be coming from Zayn or Liam, but the angry voice is Irish.

Louis feels like he can finally breathe the second he steps outside the club, so he stops for a second to pull himself together. Tonight didn’t go the way he planned and he has no idea what happens next with Harry, but it is what it is. Louis will be able to handle it and everything will be fine. 

Louis is considering lighting a cigarette to calm himself down before he walks home when he sees Harry approaching out of the corner of his eye. Louis stiffens, feeling woefully unprepared for whatever conversation is about to take place. He shouldn’t have lingered outside the club for the time it took to take those extra breaths. 

“Are you leaving because you saw me dancing with someone else?” Harry asks from beside him. His voice is quiet and his emotion is unreadable. 

Louis just shrugs, looking away, but he knows that’s answer enough. Harry stays quiet for a long moment. 

“You don’t have any right to act like a jealous boyfriend when we’re not dating, Louis,” Harry says finally. He sounds more upset than annoyed, and Louis doesn’t want to think about why that might be.

Louis looks at him, standing there in his tight jeans and unbuttoned shirt, looking like everything that Louis has wanted since the day they met, and he feels anger bubbling through his veins.

“Seriously, Harry?” Louis says, and Harry raises his eyebrows at Louis’ change in tone. “Tell that to your past self when you rimmed me in the shower because you heard that Zayn and I fucked years ago. Tell that to your past self when you got worked up about me wearing Liam’s clothes. You get to act like a jealous boyfriend when it comes to me and other guys, even when it’s fucking ridiculous, but the second I get pissed about you actively dancing up on someone in the club when I’m right there across the room, you make me out to be the bad guy.”

Harry looks like he’s been slapped.

Louis sighs. He doesn’t want to fight and he doesn’t want to deal with this. Any of it. 

“When you get jealous, it’s hot, and I know we both get off on that a bit, but there’s an ugly side to jealousy. I guess that’s what I showed tonight. I know...I know that I had no right. This isn’t a relationship and you don’t want it to be, so I’m sorry I acted that way. It won’t happen again.”

Harry nods, and there’s a dead look in his eyes. “I’m sorry too, Louis. We both just got caught up in things. Let’s just. We’re going to keep it casual, right? No jealousy, no possessiveness, no storming out of clubs. Just friends who fuck.” 

“No jealousy, no possessiveness, no storming out of clubs. Just friends who fuck.” Louis repeats, and his voice sounds unnaturally calm even to his own ears. “No strings attached, and that’s that.”

Harry nods once. Louis swallows and looks away. 

“Should we pinky promise on that point?” Louis asks, giving Harry his best attempt at a fake smile. He clenches his hand into a fist and sticks his pinky out in Harry’s direction expectantly. His stomach churns, but he ignores it. 

Harry wraps his arms around Louis for a hug, not bothering to lock pinkies with him. Louis squeezes his eyes shut tightly as he hugs back, and for those few seconds, Harry’s arms feel like the only things holding Louis together. 

Long after Louis expects the hug to end, Harry keeps his arms wrapped tightly around Louis, as though he thinks loosening his grip even slightly would allow Louis to run away.

 _I'm not the one that would run away,_ Louis thinks to himself. _I have been stuck in place for years, wanting you, and I'll still want you when you’ve decided you’re done._

Louis feels like shards of glass are running through his veins, and he knows he’s being overdramatic, but everything hurts too much for him to care. He’s too exhausted to decode the lilt to Harry’s voice or to analyze the shapes that Harry’s fingers are leaving on the skin of his hips. None of it probably matters anyway.

It should be the same as it’s always been, hugging Harry. Harry holds Louis in his arms like he’s the only person in the world, at least in that moment. Louis holds Harry back as tightly as his arms will allow, knowing that it’s temporary. Every part of their bodies that could be touching is pressed together, and Louis can feel Harry’s heartbeat thudding against his chest, a rhythm that matches Louis’ heart beat for beat.

It should be the same as it’s always been, but something inside Louis is different now. 

 

* 

 

Zayn moves out on a Sunday. Louis has been helping him pack his stuff up for days, but it doesn’t feel real until the movers actually arrive and Louis has to watch box after box be removed from their flat forever. 

Louis is flopped down on his bed moping when Zayn knocks on his doorframe. He doesn’t bother waiting for Louis’ response before entering, instead simply barging in and throwing himself down on the bed next to Louis.

“How are you, bro?” Zayn asks. Louis makes a non-committal noise and Zayn sighs. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but you need to. You don’t deserve what Harry said to you the other night. I love him to death and I know he doesn’t have bad intentions, but I know how you feel about him, I’ve always known it, and fuck, Louis, you deserve better than what he’s willing to offer you, alright?” 

Louis mumbles into his pillow. 

“I hate seeing you like this, you know that? I know we joke around and shit, but I’m being serious when I say that anybody would be so lucky to have you. If Harry can’t see that after four years, then fuck him. I hate that I’m leaving you by yourself in this flat when you’re upset. I need to know that you’re alright.” Zayn says, voice honest and concerned. 

Louis rolls over and wraps his arms around Zayn tightly. 

“I love you, mate,” Louis says, feeling slightly choked up. 

Zayn smiles and hugs him back. “I love you too. I give you a lot of shit and you give it back and then some, but you’re the best person I know,” he says.

“Excuse you!” Gigi calls from the other room, interrupting the moment. Zayn rolls his eyes. 

“Second best person I know,” he amends, smiling when hears Gigi’s light laugh.

Louis laughs, the first genuine one he’s given all day, and then rubs his hand over his face tiredly.

“You have a big opportunity here, you know?” Zayn says, and Louis nods. “You’ve left your job and soon you’ll be leaving this flat too, and I just don’t want you to miss out on a chance for a fresh start because you’re still pining.”

Louis doesn’t want that either. He doesn’t want to be sitting on his new sofa in his new flat feeling the same old heartbreak because Harry thinks of him as a distraction. He doesn’t want to be on the tube headed to a new audition wishing for the thousandth time that Harry will suddenly look at him and see more than he does now.

The idea of leaving behind what he has with Harry, as dysfunctional and ridiculous and heartbreaking as it may be, is terrifying. With every step forward he’s taken lately, Louis feels like he’s gotten closer and closer to the edge of the precipice, but he knows that telling Harry it’s over will be like throwing himself into freefall without anyone there to help him on the way down. 

When Zayn and Gigi exit the flat with the last box of Zayn’s things with big hugs and possibly even some teary eyes on Zayn’s part, though he will deny that to the grave, the door slams shut with a finality that makes Louis’ heart ache.

Telling Harry that Louis isn’t going to hook up with him anymore will be the hardest thing Louis has ever done — harder than quitting his job with Simon, harder than entering unemployment with no concrete prospects for his future, harder than moving out on his own for without a roommate for the first time. It will grind the broken pieces of Louis’ heart into tiny bits of dust, but he has to do it.

He knows he has to do it.

 

* 

 

The last thing Louis wants to do on Friday night is hang out with a group of people, especially a group of people that includes Harry, but he knows that if he tried to pretend he was sick, Harry would just try to stay home with him. Instead, he’s just going to go for a few hours and then try to head out early. 

Louis texts Harry to tell him that he’ll just meet him at his flat around when everyone else arrives, as that is where everyone is gathering to watch movies, eat pizza, and drink beer. Normally, Louis would head over early to spend time with Harry alone before their friends crowded in, but not tonight.

He arrives at Harry’s flat a few minutes after 6, still wearing his work clothes. It was his last day of work, so Simon had thrown a small going away celebration. Or more accurately, Simon had commanded several of his employees to throw a small going away celebration for Louis, showed up for fifteen minutes, and then said he had to get going. Louis’ tie is tucked in his back pocket and his trousers are slightly wrinkled from the tube, but he looks presentable enough.

Harry opens the door on the second knock, a big smile lighting up his face. He wraps Louis in a hug and Louis tries to ignore the pang in his chest, instead just hugging Harry back and inhaling his scent. It smells like he just showered, and Louis realizes with an ache that he wants nothing more than to stay with Harry tonight, fuck lazily on the sofa, and then shower together before falling into bed. He won’t let it happen, but he wants it to.

“Hey babe,” Louis says, pulling back.

“How was your last day, Lou?” Harry asks, and Louis just gives him a small smile and shrugs.

“It was alright, nothing special. Small celebration afterwards, so I’ve already had a drink.”

Louis barely manages to get the words out before Liam, Zayn, Gigi, and Niall are crowding him for a group hug. Sophia and a couple of Niall’s friends are arriving a bit later on, so Louis just feels grateful that he isn’t being attacked by even more people. Everyone is asking him how his last day was and telling him they’re proud of him, but as much as Louis appreciates the sentiment, he wants nothing more than to go home, curl up in his bed, and sleep the weekend away.

Instead, he forces a smile and answers their questions until they back off him a bit. Harry has draped blankets around the living room and spread pillows on the floor so there’s room for everyone to sit comfortable when they turn the movie on, but when Louis goes to sit down on one of the pillows by the coffee table, he sees Harry frowning and patting the small empty spot next to him. 

Louis groans internally, but flops down in the empty spot anyway. Harry’s still frowning a little at the fact that Louis hadn’t sat down right away, considering they always save seats for one another, so Louis props his feet up on Harry’s lap and gives him the most natural smile he can manage. 

They’re watching the second Avengers movie for what feels like the sixtieth time, and though Louis is grateful they chose a movie where loud noise and frequent action keeps them all enthralled. He doesn’t want any boring lulls in the movie where Harry could have an opportunity to strike up a conversation under his breath with Louis.

While they watch, Harry taps Louis’ knee gently, rubs at his feet, pokes him in the side, and does anything else he thinks will catch Louis’ attention. Louis is usually the person who does things like that during movies so people will pay attention to him, but it’s clear that Harry has noticed something is off. Louis tries to act normally and smile at the right times, laugh at the right times, and give Harry as much acknowledgement as he can to keep Harry off his back, but he’s not sure how effective his tactics are considering Zayn and Liam keep giving him worried glances as well. 

About an hour and a half into the movie, Louis wiggles his way off of Harry and gets to his feet. Harry makes a protesting sound, looking concerned.

“Gotta go to the loo and then grab another drink, I’ll be back in a few,” Louis explains, waving him off.

Harry’s bathroom smells like vanilla, candles having been burning for hours, and Louis just leans against the door for a minute and inhales deeply, trying to calm himself down. It’s more difficult to pretend to act normal than he thought, and he feels completely exhausted by it. 

When Louis looks into the mirror as he washes his hands, he sees a ghost staring back at him. He looks tired and paler than usual, dark circles under his eyes. His hair is more messy than it is artfully tousled, and it’s like Louis’ entire self has dulled in his sadness and exhaustion. 

He splashes water on his face before exiting the loo and walking to the kitchen. Louis turns to open the beer bottle with the opener lying by the sink, but as he reaches for it, he feels two hands on his hips that make him startle. 

Louis knows it’s Harry even before Harry leans in to kiss the side of his neck gently. 

When Louis turns around, Harry is looking at him fondly, and Louis hates it, all of it — this, the entire situation, the way he’s feeling, the fact that he’s here in Harry’s kitchen instead of asleep in his bed, the way Harry is looking at him like he is the most precious person in the world. 

Something must show on Louis’ face because Harry’s brow furrows. “Are you okay, baby?” He asks. Harry’s hands come up to grip Louis’ face, and he gently swipes his thumbs over the bags under Louis’ eyes. Louis can’t stop his instinct to lean into the touch. His eyes fall closed, and he feels Harry’s breath on his lips in the split second before their lips make contact. 

It’s a chaste kiss, especially for one between Harry and Louis, and something about it feels so domestic that Louis has to step back. It feels like there’s a gaping wound in his chest that Harry just stuck his fist in, and he can’t stop himself from blurting out the words.

“I don’t think this thing between us, whatever it is, should continue,” he says, and the words are out. 

Harry takes a step back, his mouth falling open in surprise.

“Can we talk about this?” Harry says, recovering quickly. His eyes are searching Louis’ face for answers, and for the first time since Louis met Harry, he knows that his face won’t give anything away. He’s been working on this poker face for years, after all. “Is this because of our discussion outside the club?” 

Louis just shrugs.

“I’m just not interested in doing this anymore,” Louis says, feigning nonchalance and failing miserably. “This was a fun rebound for you and you don’t want me to treat you like a boyfriend, which is completely understandable and was made clear from the beginning, but I think this has run its course.” Louis swallows the bile rising in his throat. “I think _we’ve_ run our course.” 

Harry looks speechless, and Louis turns his head so he doesn’t have to look at him anymore.

“It was going to end eventually anyway,” Louis says, turning back and making eye contact with Harry. “I mean, can you think of any reason why we should keep doing this?”

Harry’s eyes are big, and they almost look wet, but it’s probably just the weird lighting. Louis swallows hard again, not daring to hope for Harry to say what he wants to hear, and yet, still managing to hope with every fiber of his being.

“I thought that we were having fun,” Harry says, voice sounding weak. “I _know_ we were having fun.” 

Louis expected nothing more or less, but the words still make his heart drop to the tile floor beneath their feet. 

“All good things must come to an end,” he says, voice light and sounding awful even to Louis’ own ears. He shrugs and laughs, hoping it doesn’t sound too bitter, but knowing that it does anyway. 

Harry reaches out and grasps Louis’ arm, and when Louis looks at him again, he looks desperate, as though there are words on the tip of the tongue that he needs to say. Louis gives him a chance to say them, hesitating, still hoping. 

But Harry says nothing. He just nods, and Louis watches the line of his throat as he swallows. 

“I need some time to myself, I think,” Louis says, stepping out of Harry’s hold. “Just with the job ending and all that, I want some space to figure out where I go from here.”

Harry frowns. “So what, you don’t want to hang out for a bit? Or you don’t want to talk at all...” He trails off.

Louis turns around and puts his unopened beer back in the fridge to avoid looking at Harry when he responds. 

“The second option, please. Not forever. Just for a little while. I’ll tell you when I’m good.” 

Louis stands back up and looks at Harry, whose face is completely raw and devastated. He looks wrecked, but for the first time in a long time, it’s not in the good way. Louis watches while he opens and closes his mouth once, twice, three times, and then he decides to just put them both out of their misery.

“I’m going to head out early. Long day,” he explains before walking out of the kitchen and toward the front door. Their friends are all still glued to the telly, laughing at whatever is happening on the screen. Louis calls out a goodbye to them and they all say it back, most of them too distracted to wonder why he’s leaving early. Louis feels Zayn’s eyes lingering on him, however, and he’s sure he’ll have to talk to him later, but for now, he knows Zayn will let him go without making a scene.

Louis grabs his tie where it’s draped on a hook next to the door and pauses, unsure of what else to say. Harry is watching him intensely, and when he leans in, muscle memory has Louis closing his eyes. Harry doesn’t kiss him on the lips though; he kisses him on the cheek, a soft, lingering kiss that Louis feels for hours afterwards.

“Goodnight, Harry,” Louis says softly before opening the door.

“Louis, I,” Harry says abruptly before cutting himself off. Louis turns around, heart pattering against his ribcage, and stares at Harry. “I’ll talk to you soon,” Harry finishes lamely, sounding uncertain as to whether it’s a statement or a question. Louis bites down a bitter laugh and nods instead. He walks out the open door and down the hallway, turning at the staircase and beginning the trek downstairs without bothering to turn around. He doesn’t hear the door close behind him until he’s halfway down the second flight of stairs, and as soon as he does, he finds himself collapsing down onto the steps.

Louis’ eyes feel wet. All he knows is the burning in his chest and throat, so overwhelming that he isn’t sure he could get himself up from the floor yet even if someone found him there. Louis uses his tie to wipe the tears off his face, not caring that he’s probably ruining it. He’s going to just throw it out when he gets home anyway. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to look at it again without thinking of this feeling in his chest.

While he sits there, crying and heartbroken, he thinks about the first time he met Harry and how by the end of the night, it felt like he had found someone that he had been waiting for. He thinks about the first time he thought to himself, _I love that man,_ and how it was the most honest feeling he had ever experienced. He thinks about the first time he slept with Harry and how when it was over, Louis had never felt more right in his skin. 

Then he thinks about the last time he slept with Harry and how it felt like whatever they had was more than just a casual arrangement. He thinks about the last time he kissed Harry, and even though it probably wasn’t more than fifteen minutes ago, Louis feels his mind desperately grasping every detail to commit them all to memory. He thinks about the last time he fought with Harry and how Harry made it clear that regardless of how Louis feels and regardless of how Louis interpreted things between them, Harry does not and will never think of him the same way.

Louis gives himself just ten minutes on the stairs to collect himself before catching a cab home. Ten minutes to memorize the feeling of Harry’s lips, the taste of his mouth, the smell of his skin, the curve of his smile when they're kissing. That was their last kiss, and Louis wants to remember it.

Ten minutes, and then it’s time to walk away.


	6. Chapter Five

Every day that Louis doesn’t talk to Harry or see Harry feels like the longest day of the year. It’s been two weeks of this, and Louis keeps waiting for his mind to adjust, but every day is just as much of a struggle as the last.

Louis has known Harry for four years, and in that period of time, they haven’t gone more than two days without speaking. Louis is used to frequent calls from Harry talking about random things that happened to him at the bakery or at a photoshoot, but now his phone has barely rang in days. Louis is used to sending Harry a photo of every man he sees in a fedora, but now he has six photos like that on his phone and nobody to send them to. 

Before he and Harry were hooking up, they were best friends, and Louis hates that he got so caught up in his feelings for Harry that he managed to fuck up their friendship. He’s going to talk to Harry again eventually, of course, but he knows that he’ll never get over Harry without getting some space for a while. In the meantime, the radio silence is painful and lonely, and while the other boys are trying to help fill it, Harry is an irreplaceable presence in Louis’ life.

The day Louis moves is a Saturday. He’s been packing for days, occasionally with the help of Niall or Liam, but mainly by himself. While Louis knew the move was coming, the process of packing his life away into boxes after years living with Zayn weighs heavily on him. He knows he’s probably just overwhelmed by the change — leaving his job, leaving his best friend and fuck buddy, and leaving his flat, but he tears up several times while packing away various items from his bedroom and the living room. 

When Louis took down a photograph of himself and Harry from the living room wall during his last night of packing, he actually had to stop and sit down for fifteen minutes. His reaction was embarrassing, honestly, but it was the first photograph of Harry’s that Louis had ever received. Their smiles, their eyes, the lines on their faces that make it clear how happy and fond they were of each other — they all just serve to remind Louis of how different things are now that Louis had to step back from their friendship entirely. 

The movers arrive late, so Liam waits with Louis and his pile of boxes and furniture. They don’t speak much while they pass the time, simply sitting quietly on the sofa, which has been pushed toward the door, and sipping tea from the shop around the corner. It feels incredibly weird to be going through such a major life event without Harry by his side, and though they haven’t spoken about it, Louis knows Liam realizes how he’s feeling. Every few minutes, Liam awkwardly rubs Louis’ back to try to make him feel better. Louis appreciates the effort.

“How is he?” Louis finally asks, breaking the silence. 

Liam knows who he’s talking about without him having to explain. 

“Sad, mostly. A little confused too, I think, but mostly sad. He misses you. I really think that he might—” Louis gets up abruptly and walks into the kitchen. The only things left in there are two boxes stacked on the floor and a bag of food in the fridge that Louis will be taking with him when Liam drives him to the new place, but Louis opens and closes all the cupboard doors to check that they’re empty for the fifth time. 

“I changed my mind, I don’t want to talk about him,” Louis calls out to Liam, who has fallen silent. He hears a deep sigh coming from Liam’s general direction, but Louis just ignores it in favor of resting his forehead against one of the cabinets. He closes his eyes for a minute and tries to calm his heart, which is racing just from talking about Harry out loud with someone for the first time since he ended things.

That night when Louis arrived home, he had sent a mass text to everyone relevant to tell them that he had ended his arrangement with Harry and that he needed space from the situation. They all respected his wishes by keeping silent about Harry and likely by encouraging Harry to respect Louis’ request for space. Louis knows Harry probably expected Louis to only take a few days to himself, but two weeks later, he’s sure Harry is going out of his mind with worry about the situation. 

Louis reopens his eyes when he hears the knock. Liam beats him to the door, of course, welcoming the movers in. Louis sighs before picking up the two boxes from the kitchen and walking them into the living room. It only takes him a few minutes to explain to the movers where everything is and which boxes they should take particular care with, and then he and Liam watch and help whenever needed as they empty out the rest of Louis’ space. 

Only an hour later, Louis’ flat is empty except for his bag of food in the fridge and Louis is doing his final walk through, running his fingers over the walls and memorizing every detail of the flat he's lived in for years. Liam already went down to the car to allow Louis a minute to himself. 

Glancing around his empty flat for the last time, Louis can’t help but think about all the memories there. Countless Friday nights with the lads. Smoking up with Zayn and eating cereal when they were high out of their minds. Drinks with Niall at times of day when they probably should not have been drinking. He and Liam setting the table for Zayn’s first dinner with Gigi because Zayn was in the kitchen stressed to the point of his quiff drooping. Netflix marathons for every terrible or amazing show he and Harry could think of. Long nights laughing about nothing with Harry on Louis’ bed, the sofa, the kitchen floor. He and Harry drunkenly breaking Zayn’s mother’s vase and then having to confess when Zayn sliced his foot on a piece of glass they missed during the clean up. He and Harry laughing and fucking until the sun went down.

Harry, Harry, Harry. 

Louis lived in this flat with Zayn, but most of his fondest memories within these walls were with Harry. Louis ignores the throbbing in his chest, something he’s been getting use to, and picks up the bag of refrigerated food.

“Here’s to new beginnings,” he says, and he means to sound excited, but the words come out sounding weak and sad.

The door closes behind Louis, and for the second time in two weeks, he doesn’t bother looking back. 

 

* 

 

Louis spends a full week unpacking his new flat in between auditions. Now that he has a flat’s worth of space all to himself, he takes the time to arrange and rearrange his furniture until everything looks and feels exactly the way he wants it to. He enjoys that immensely, but it still feels very strange to be living alone in a new place. 

When Louis first learned that he would have to move, he assumed Harry would be spending long nights in his bed and the lads would be over for drinks, games, and films with their usual frequency, but the continuing radio silence between Louis and Harry means that neither of those things is happening.

Thankfully, Louis doesn’t have much time to sit around and mope. His new acting agent, a lovely young woman by the name of Perrie, has Louis going to auditions so frequently that he feels like he still has a full-time job. 

When Perrie watched videos of Louis from his plays in school during their first meeting, she became determined to find him an amazing part as soon as possible. She cast a wide net of possible roles, including characters in commercials, TV shows, plays, and even a couple of films where the directors were looking for unknown talent. Louis isn’t very optimistic about getting most of the roles Perrie wants him to audition for, but she hushes him whenever he voices those concerns.

“Your talent has been wasted for years, Louis,” she says, outrage written all over her face. “I’m not going to let you undersell yourself, okay? We’re going to keep getting you into auditions until we find something incredible. I don’t care whether you think you can do it or not — I’m the expert, I’m telling you you’re good enough, and that’s that.”

So Louis goes to his auditions and tries his best. It’s difficult sometimes, as life as an aspiring actor is very different from life as an executive assistant, but Louis enjoys it. He experiences disappointment every time he misses out on a role, but he never feels like he’s wasting his time auditioning. He’s getting practice, he’s receiving great advice from casting directors, and he’s improving as an actor. He goes home exhausted after long days hopping from audition to audition, but it’s the good kind of exhausted, the kind that reminds him he did something worthwhile with his time. He never felt that way when he still worked for Simon. 

When Louis quit his job at the Cowell Organization, he was tired of the fact that he was always happy when he wasn’t doing work and miserable when he was. Ironically, now he’s dealing with the opposite situation. His friends are still incredible, of course, always offering to help him prepare for his auditions and spending time with him as they always have. They’re all incredibly supportive, but Louis feels the weight of Harry’s absence every single day. 

Toward the end of his third week without Harry, Louis hears about a role in a TV show that films in London. Perrie knows the casting director and heard they wanted an unknown face to play the lead role, and when she called Louis to tell him about it, she was practically frothing at the mouth with excitement. 

Louis receives only ten pages of the script in preparation for the audition, but those ten pages are all it takes for Louis to realize how desperately he wants this role. The part that he would be playing is dynamic and interesting, not to mention that it would allow him to show off both his comedic chops and his dramatic acting skills. It’s everything Louis could dream about and more, all rolled into a single character.

On the day of the audition, Louis tries to reassure himself that whether he receives a callback or not, the experience of auditioning will be beneficial enough. He repeats that to himself over and over, but he knows deep down that if he fails in this audition, he’ll be extremely disappointed. He has a feeling deep into his bones that he's right for the part, and the thought of missing out on the opportunity makes his gut twist uncomfortably.

For two hours, he waits in an uncomfortable plastic chair and tries to keep his mind as blank as possible. Finally, a woman pokes her head out the door and tells Louis that they will be ready for him next. While he stands just outside the auditioning room, Louis goes to turn off his phone. The last thing he needs is a phone call or text interrupting his audition and making him look unprofessional. When he glances down, he sees a barrage of good luck texts from Perrie, Zayn, Liam, Niall, Gigi, Sophia, his mum, his sisters, his step-dad, and even Stan, who is the only person Louis stayed in touch after leaving the Cowell Organization.

There’s one person missing, of course, and Louis tries to ignore how much his heart still aches at that. As far as Louis knows, none of his friends have told Harry much about what Louis is up to these days, so he’s sure Harry has absolutely no idea what’s about to happen today. If he’d been aware of it, Louis doesn’t think Harry would have been able to resist sending him a good luck text. 

The door opens just as Louis is powering down his phone and stuffing it back into his pocket.

“Louis, we’re ready for you,” the woman says, poking her head out again and giving him a tight smile.

She holds the door open for him, and Louis takes a deep breath before following her inside.

There’s a group of about five people sitting at a table to watch the audition, and although they introduce themselves, Louis is so nervous that he barely pays attention to a word they’re saying. None of their faces look particularly friendly, but Louis has been to enough auditions in the last few weeks to be have adjusted to the poker faces. Louis has plenty of experience with those, so he doesn’t let it bother him. Instead, he simply gives the people a smile, introduces himself, and takes a deep breath.

The first time they met, Harry had told Louis, “You can do whatever you want to do.” Louis may not have believed Harry then, but he believes him now. He hasn't talked to Harry in weeks, but Harry's voice in his head is the last thing he hears before he begins his lines. 

 

* 

 

“You sound so nervous that you’re actually giving me secondhand nervousness, and I’m across the city,” Zayn says on the other end of the line. Louis’ waitress arrives with a pitcher of water to fill their glasses, so he covers the mouthpiece of the phone quickly to thank her before returning to his call with Zayn. 

“Do you know the last time I went on a date, Z? It’s been ages. I’m bricking it,” Louis hisses when she walks away.

Zayn chuckles. “It’ll be fine, okay? I know this is really out of your comfort zone, but don’t freak yourself out about it. Just relax and be yourself and he’ll love you. Now get the fuck off the phone before he arrives, and don't forget that I expect a full update when you get home.”

Louis swallows heavily. “Okay, you’re right, thanks. Love you, mate.”

Zayn laughs again and returns the sentiment. When Louis hangs up, the knot in his stomach is still there, but he tries to take a few deep breaths to calm himself down. Louis has a date with Luke tonight, a man he met at an audition several days ago. When Luke asked him for his number, Louis almost said no automatically. In his brain, he’s somehow still with Harry, and even though they technically only ever had a non-exclusive arrangement, it was always exclusive to Louis. 

Harry is his phantom limb, but Louis wants so desperately to get to a place where he’s over Harry enough that they can go back to how their friendship was before he got in too deep and fucked it all up. The prospect of looking at someone else, let alone dating them, is still foreign to Louis, but he knows he needs to give it a try. That’s why he gave Luke his number, and that’s why he said yes when Luke asked him out tonight. 

Luke arrives only a few minutes after Louis puts his phone away, and Louis immediately gets out of his seat to greet him with a hug. He’s still incredibly nervous, but Luke is handsome and kind, and Louis knows that it’s highly unlikely that the night will end in a complete disaster. 

When the waitress hands him his plate of fish and chips, Louis thinks about Harry fucking him for the first time after they ate this dish together. When Luke asks if he can have a chip, Louis thinks about Harry sneaking food off his plate and then either pretending he hadn’t done it or accusing Louis of hurting his feelings by trying to keep his food to himself. When Luke tells a story about his job as an engineer, Louis thinks about how often he would tease Harry for telling stories about work that were long and detailed, but never seemed to have an actual point. When Luke tells Louis that he only speaks to his family about twice a year, Louis thinks about how close Harry is with his mum, dad, sister, and step-dad. When Luke tells Louis that he’s always found Simon Cowell really admirable, Louis thinks about all the times Harry insulted his old boss and told Louis he didn't deserve to work for such a wanker. 

At the end of the night, Louis gives Luke a hug goodbye instead of a kiss, and when Luke says he’ll talk to him soon, Louis knows he’s lying. Louis may have been physically present at their date, but his mind was miles away. He tried to hide it as much as could by keeping up polite conversation, but there's no way Luke couldn't tell.

He collapses onto his sofa the minute he enters his flat, not even bothering to turn the lights on. He knows Zayn is probably anxiously waiting an update on how the date went, but it takes him half an hour to even gather the courage to pull his phone out of his pocket. Zayn won’t actually be disappointed in Louis, but every day that Louis forces his friends to deal with the distance between Louis and Harry, he feels like he’s letting them all down. The sooner he gets over Harry, the better off they’ll all be. 

When he glances down at his phone screen, he’s surprised to see a missed call and voicemail from Perrie. When Louis goes to listen to it, his heartbeat is thumping so loudly that he wouldn't be surprised if everyone in his building can hear it. 

“Louis, you got a callback! I was talking to the casting director on the phone and he said that you were by far the favorite, so babe, I really think you’ve got a shot at this! I’m about to pop a bottle of champagne in your honor, but I’ll call you again tomorrow so we can chat about the details, okay? God, this is just absolutely incredible. I’m so amazed by you and I hope you’re so proud of yourself. Okay, take care, babe!” 

Louis drops his phone in shock.

He did it. He got a callback. There's no guarantee that it will go any further of this, but Louis jumped the first hurdle toward landing a leading role in a TV series. He knows it's an amazing accomplishment and he can't help but feel incredibly proud of himself. 

Louis knows he has a long list of people who will want to hear the good news, but he can’t bring himself to reach out to any of them. The only person that Louis wants to call to share this news with is Harry. The only person that Louis wants to call is the one person that he can’t, and he knows it’s his own damn fault, but that doesn’t make it any easier. 

Finally, Louis picks up the phone and dials the only other number he can think of.

“Mum,” he says when she picks up after four rings. “Can I come home?”

 

* 

 

Louis’ mum meets him in the car park outside the train station, and as soon as he sees her, Louis wants nothing more than to run to her and give her the world’s longest hug. Since he’s a grown man in public place, however, he simply walks toward her at a reasonable pace and gives her the tightest hug he can. She hugs him back just as enthusiastically as he expected, immediately rubbing his back and telling him how much she loves and missed him.

Louis spends the first day home not talking about anything. He tells his mum about the callback, of course, which she celebrates happily, but he doesn’t mention the elephant in the room. Louis’ mum knows all about Louis’ feelings for Harry, the bare minimum about their friends with benefits arrangement, and nothing at all about Louis breaking things off. He thinks she probably has a good idea of what’s going on regardless, but she doesn’t pressure him to talk about it. 

He helps his mum clean the house and sets the table for each meal. He spends time with his siblings playing games and helping them with their schoolwork. He goes to a pub with Lottie and they discuss her friends, her boyfriend, and her plans to attend cosmetology school, but every time the conversation starts to be steered toward him and his life, and steers it right back away. He does everything he can to avoid thinking about Harry, and when that doesn't work, he still manages to do everything he can to avoid _talking_ about Harry.

Louis can tell that his whole family is worried about him, but it’s clear that they’ve been told to keep quiet about it. Even Phoebe and Daisy keep looking at Louis like he’s about to have an emotional breakdown, and Louis imagines that if Doris and Ernest were just a few years older, they would be looking at him the same way. 

HIs second day home, Louis wakes up late in the morning and is immediately suspicious. Sleeping in is almost never possible in a home with seven kids, a mother, a step-father, and two puppies, so he doesn't understand how he managed it today. When Louis finally drags himself out of bed, he goes down the stairs very slowly, listening intently for any signs of life in the house. All he hears is deafening silence.

When he enters the kitchen, his mum is sitting quietly at the table with a mug of tea. Louis only takes two steps into the room before he realizes that this is an intervention, but it’s already too late to retreat. His mum points to the chair across the table from her, but Louis walks over to make himself a cuppa instead. 

“Let’s start talking about the elephant in the room, shall we?” His mum says, and Louis sighs deeply.

“What elephant?” He says finally, not looking over at her.

“I think the elephant’s name is Harry Styles,” she says, clearly not in the mood to play games. He sighs again, and as soon as his water is on the stove, he goes to sit down. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to return to London without a confrontation about this topic, and since it seems like his mum sent the girls and Ernest somewhere with her husband, he’s guessing that now is as good of a time as any.

“I broke things off between us,” he says, staring down at the table. His mum reaches over and grabs his hand, squeezing it tight. She doesn’t say anything, but Louis knows she’s simply waiting for him to explain at his own pace.

“When we first got together, it was just meant to be a distraction. That’s what he called it,” Louis says, shrugging helplessly. “The thing is that I knew from the beginning that I was going to end up heartbroken. I knew that, but I couldn’t say no to him because I’d wanted him for so long. I don’t think I could have lived with the what ifs if I'd just said no and kept my distance, so instead I agreed and decided to figure out the rest later.” 

“Harry and I, we’ve always had such an intense friendship,” he says, and he sees his mum nod at that. “So of course this casual arrangement was more intense than it should've been, and mum, it was getting to the point where sometimes I would catch myself wondering if he felt the same way. We were together all the time, we were kissing all the time, we were sleeping together all the time—“

Louis’ mum makes a face at that, but he just shrugs. 

“Sorry, but we were. Everything was so domestic and reminiscent of a real relationship, but Harry would always remind me that it was a casual thing, it was a distraction, no big deal, and it hurt every time he said that, but that was what I'd signed up for. It was my fault. I was the person who agreed to something casual and then couldn’t reign in my feelings, but it was tearing me apart. I couldn’t do it anymore.”

Louis’ mum squeezes his hand again. When the kettle whistles and Louis makes to get up, she waves him off. “I’ll get it, love,” she says softly, standing up and fetching a mug from one of the cabinets. 

When his mum sets his tea down in front of him, made just the way he likes it, he finds that he’s not sure what else he can even say. He doesn’t know how to fully explain what happened between he and Harry or how to explain his emotional state because his emotions are so jumbled.

“I’m not going to tell you what to do about any of this,” His mum says suddenly, and Louis looks up from the table at her, feeling slightly confused. “But I’m going to tell you a story, okay?”

Louis nods and takes a sip of tea, curious as to where this is going.

“When you moved to London, it killed me,” His mum begins, and that’s not what Louis was expecting her to say. “My oldest baby moved across the country for uni, and I know you were old enough to go off on your own, but as a mother, it was terrifying for me to let you go there by yourself.” 

“I was so worried that you wouldn’t find family down there. I didn’t want you to just find friends, you see. So many friends come and go as you grow up and change and I didn’t want that for you. I wanted you to find a couple of people who love you no matter what, who are there for you during your highest and lowest points, who you always know you can call, just like you always know you can call me. Your real family couldn’t be there, but I wanted you to find a second family.”

“You know, I thought maybe you’d find roommates, fellow interns, students in your class, co-workers, whoever. I just wanted you to find a couple of people who you knew you could count on. But, Louis, darling, you didn’t find that in London,” she says.

Louis frowns. He wants to launch into a defense of the friends he has in London, but he knows that interrupting his mum once she gets started is a very dangerous thing to do.

“You found more than I could have ever hoped for. You didn't just find a couple of people. You found Zayn, Liam, Niall, and eventually you found Gigi and Sophia when they started dating the boys. You found a group of friends that became your London family, and when I realized that, I knew that no matter what happened, you were gonna be okay. You were adamant about not going into acting even though it was what you really wanted, and then you ended up at a job surrounded by so many terrible people, a job that exhausted you and stressed you out and made you unhappy, and I hated seeing that. I wanted you to quit so badly, but you needed to realize that yourself, and in the meantime, it meant so much to me to know that you had those people there for you.”

Jay’s tearing up now, using her sleeve to dab at her eyes, and Louis keeps sipping his tea to prevent himself from starting up the waterworks as well. 

“They made you happy. They watched out for you and cared about you and loved you, and you did the same thing for them, and I knew then that you would be okay. But there was one other person too.” 

Jay reaches across the table to grab Louis’ hand again, and he feels his heart skip a beat because he knows his mum is about to talk about Harry. He’s just not sure he’s ready to hear whatever she has to say.

“The first time you called me after meeting Harry, you talked about him for 15 minutes out of our 19-minute-long conversation. Did you know that? It took you almost a year to admit to me that you had feelings for him, but I knew from that very first call. And I met Harry several times that first year, and then even more in the years that followed, and I got to know him and love him just like you did.”

Louis gives his mum a weird look at that statement, and she slaps his arm lightly. “Stop being disgusting. You know what I meant.” Louis grins mischievously and she chuckles wetly, dabbing at her eyes again.

“Harry was something I couldn’t have ever anticipated you finding when you moved out there. He’s a part of your family along with the rest of them, yes, but he’s in a different category. Has been since the day you two met, and I know you know that. From the first time I saw you and Harry together, I knew you had something special,” she explains. 

“But I ruined it, mum,” Louis says. “I ruined it because he looks at me as a best friend and he's mine too, but I look at him as the love of my life. And now I've ruined it and I don’t know how we’re going to come back from that.”

His mum gets up from where she’s sitting and motions for Louis to get to his feet too. When he does, she gives him a big hug. It’s not exactly what he needs, since what he needs is a curly-haired man who's in London at the moment, but it helps.

“You two will be okay,” she says gently.

“How can you be so sure?” Louis asks, pulling back. 

“You just said he looks at you as a best friend, but I've seen the way he looks at you, Louis. He looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky,” Jay says, smiling. “I have more life experience than you, darling, so trust me when I say this — when somebody looks at you like that, you're not just their best friend.”

 

* 

 

It’s almost half past nine when Louis hears a knock on his door. 

He’s been memorizing the script for his third audition for the past two hours and his eyes are tired, so he’s grateful for the interruption, but it’s rather late for someone to be knocking. Assuming that it’s one of his neighbors or one of his friends, Louis drags his arse off the sofa.

When Louis glances through the peephole, he feels a jolt of shock through his body at the familiar body standing on the other side. After weeks of no contact, Harry is standing there outside his door, and Louis can feel the last pieces of himself break apart. He’s not ready for this. He’s not sure he’ll ever be ready for this.

Even just from a quick peek, Louis knows Harry doesn’t look great. His hair is pulled back into a messy bun and his skin is paler than usual, having taken on a sickly pallor. There are dark purple circles under his eyes and he’s dressed in a plain green hoodie instead of one of his usual blouses.

He looks like he’s spent the past two weeks ripping himself into pieces, and Louis can’t wrap his head around it. Harry was supposed to be fine. Through all of this, Louis expected Harry to be fine. Upset that Louis had vanished, sure. Annoyed that Louis had read too much into their arrangement, naturally. But not this.

Louis stands frozen, unsure of what he should do.

“I can hear you, Louis,” Harry says, voice gentle through the door. “Can I please come in? If you’re not busy, of course.” His voice is deep and gravelly and hesitant, and just the sound of it again makes Louis’ stomach muscles contract.

Louis doesn’t respond.

“I know you need space, and I respect that. I just need to tell you some things. I know you gave me plenty of chances to do that before and I didn’t because I’m an idiot, but please just hear me out. Then I'll go home and we can pretend this never happened if that’s what you want. I don’t want to hurt you anymore, Lou, but I promise that’s not what I’m trying to do,” Harry says, and he sounds desperate. “You don’t even have to let me in. I can do this through the door, okay?”

Louis leans against the wall next to the door and sighs heavily. “Okay,” he says, just loudly enough for Harry to hear it, and then he lets his body slide down the wall, settling down on the floor with his knees pulled up toward his chest. He hears Harry sitting down out in the hallway, and Louis feels ridiculous and overdramatic for sitting on opposite sides of the door, but he also doesn’t feel ready to let Harry in just yet.

“I have some things for you, and I don’t want you to say anything until I give you the last one, okay?” Harry says, and Louis is confused about how Harry is going to give him something when they’re separated by wood, but he agrees. 

Louis hears Harry rummaging through something, and a second or two later, a piece of paper slides under Louis’ door. 

Louis looks at it for a moment, surprised, before picking it up. It’s a photograph, and it’s of Louis.

In the photo, Louis is sprawled out on the sofa and he’s passing a joint to someone, though only the person’s hand is showing. Louis can tell from the tattoos that it’s Zayn, and Louis is smiling big enough that he can see all the crinkles by his eyes. The picture is beautiful, just like all of Harry’s photographs, and it perfectly captures Louis’ relaxed happiness from that moment. 

Louis picks it up off the floor and turns it over, looking for a date. The photograph seems fairly old, as Louis’ hair hasn’t looked like that in a while, but he can’t quite put his finger on when it was taken. On the back of the photo, instead of a date, Louis finds that Harry has written in thick black sharpie. 

_This is the day you became my best friend_

Immediately, Louis realizes that the photo was taken the night of the potluck when he met Harry for the first time. 

Louis wants to cry at the words, an unbelievable wave of guilt washing over him for the weeks he’s spent ignoring his best friend over his own ridiculous feelings. “Harry,” he begins, wanting to apologize, and yet unsure of where to begin, but he hears Harry huff out in the hallway. That’s when he remembers that Harry asked him not to say anything until he was done, so he closes his mouth and just waits, holding onto the photo like a lifeline.

Another photo slides under the door, and this one Louis recognizes right away. Part of serving as Simon’s executive assistant had always required Louis to handle Simon’s charity efforts, most of which are done for tax write-offs rather than out of the goodness of his heart. One particular year, Louis had represented Simon by helping out with a children’s charity relay because Simon was out of town for business. He had invited his friends to come along as well, but all of them had plans that they couldn’t break except for Harry. 

Harry had brought his camera, of course, and this particular photograph shows Louis tickling a small girl who recently recovered from Leukemia. They’re both in the grass, and the girl is giggling. Her parents are both standing in the background smiling and taking photos of the moment as well, and both Louis and the girl look like they’re having a blast. It’s a beautiful picture, and Louis wonders why Harry never showed it to him before. He turns it over.

_This is the day I realized you’re the best person I know_

Louis feels another pang in his gut. He wants to say something again, but he resists and waits for the next photo, catching on to what Harry is doing here. Louis appreciates the reminders that Harry loves and cares about Louis a lot, even if it’s not in the way Louis has always wanted him to.

Harry slides the next photo under the door and Louis picks it up eagerly this time, but as soon as he sees it, he grimaces.

It shows Louis in a soaking wet t-shirt after Liam had manhandled him into a pool against his will. Louis remembers that he'd chased Liam around the pool for the next ten minutes until he managed to push him in, but Liam had yanked Louis down with him, so Louis was forced to admit defeat. In the photo, Louis’ clothes are sticking to every curve of his body. He’s smiling and shielding his eyes from the sun, likely ready to murder Liam, but he knows that Harry took the photo because his body looks like sin.

Louis flips the picture over, curious as to what Harry is going to say about this one.

_This is the day I realized I wanted to fuck you_

Louis gapes at the closed door. That picture was taken years ago, long before Harry showed any noticeable attraction to Louis and long before they began hooking up. Louis honestly had no idea that Harry had any interest in him prior to the night when they were drunk in that club after he and Kendall broke up.

Harry doesn’t give him much time to recover from his surprise, as he slips another photo under the door immediately.

This photo is of Louis on the night that he and Harry first kissed. Louis is standing on the pavement with his arms spread out wide, clearly telling a story in a dramatic fashion because he’s drunk. He’s always loved an audience, and he’s sure that if Harry had panned out, all of their friends would be standing and watching Louis speak. Louis’ hair looks slightly sweaty, eyes wild, cheeks rosy from alcohol, and he looks happy and drunk. 

_This is the night I couldn’t resist how much I wanted you anymore_

Louis’ heart starts beating a bit faster, unsure of where this is going and still reeling over the revelation that Harry wanted him for longer than the span of their arrangement. He’s always known that Harry thinks he’s attractive, of course. They’ve always been very complimentary of each other, and Harry has made endless comments over the years about Louis’ clothing, face, hair, and body. There’s a difference between aesthetic appreciation and real attraction though, and Louis figured Harry had never crossed that line with him until the night of the club. The knowledge that Harry had felt that way longer and only gave in that particular night is shocking to him.

Harry slides the next photo and Louis has his hand ready and waiting, snatching it off the floor before it even slides to a stop. Louis almost gasps out loud at this photo and he instinctively clutches it to his chest, hiding it from the non-existent prying eyes in his flat. This photo is one of the nude photos of Louis that Harry had taken the morning after Louis quit his job. He’s lying on his stomach in the bed, still asleep. His mouth is open slightly, his hair is rumpled, and the sheets are tangled around his ankles.

It’s an objectively gorgeous photo, but Louis still feels his face heat up. He knew Harry took these photos, of course, but he somehow hadn’t really thought about the fact that they existed, that Harry had developed them, that Harry had kept them, that Harry had been able to look at them whenever he wanted. He knows this one isn’t even one of the most explicit. 

He turns the photo over.

_This is the day I realized I was in love with you_

Louis’ heart stops and he just stares at the back of the photo. He flips it between the photo side and the written side three times to make sure he’s not just imagining those words being there. He’s about to stand up and open the door, demand that Harry explain what this means, but then he reads the words again and it jogs a memory.

_“The only circumstances where I’d be willing to take naked photos of someone is if I’m in love with them,” Harry says, and Louis can feel Harry’s body shift under his head as he shrugs. Louis is too close to sleep for it to bother him, so he doesn’t try to force his eyes back open._

_“Why?” Liam asks quietly, sounding curious._

_“It’s just so intimate, you know?” Harry says quietly, gently stroking Louis’ hair while he talks. It makes Louis feel like a kitten being pet, and he’s so content that he wishes he could purr. It’s been such a long day, and Harry’s words are jumbling through his head messily alongside other random thoughts. “There are plenty of people willing to take those types of photographs for people if they want them, but I’m just not comfortable with it. It feels emotionally charged to me, and I’d rather only create that atmosphere with someone I love instead of some random person I’ve never seen before and will never see again in my life.”_

Louis hadn’t been able to recall that conversation when he woke up to the camera clicking, but now he remembers. The knowledge that Harry had been in love with him then reshapes so many of Louis’ memories, molding their edges into something less sharp and painful. Louis had been so sad and heartbroken, convinced that he had been interpreting every moment with Harry as something important and intimate, but Harry had been doing the same thing.

Another photograph slides under the door.

Louis reaches for this photo slowly, afraid of what it might say. It’s been weeks and weeks since Harry realized he was in love with Louis, and Louis gave Harry so many opportunities to reveal his feelings, but he stayed silent. Louis almost wants to read the words before he even looks at the picture, but he resists.

This photo was taken the night that the boys played video games, the night before everything went to shit. In the photo, he’s playing furiously, likely against Zayn, as he has a particularly competitive look on his face. Louis doesn’t even remember it being taken, but he assumes it was fairly early in the night because he remembers Harry putting his camera away at some point.

_This is the day I overheard something that terrified me_

Louis frowns and tries to think back to conversations from that night, but most of them are hazy from the alcohol and weed. The most vivid memory is of the conversation where Zayn had joked about Louis falling in love with everyone he dates or has a fling with. He remembers saying that he wished he could be the way Zayn described, but he had assumed his feelings for Harry were unrequited. Under those circumstances, of course he would wish that he could move on quickly instead of staying hung up on the same man for years.

Louis feels confused as to why Harry might have gotten scared if he overheard that conversation, but then he remembers how quietly he had said those words. Harry had returned to the room soon after that in a significantly grumpier mood, and Louis suddenly realizes that Harry must have only heard what Zayn said about Louis. If he didn’t hear Louis’ response, he would think that Zayn was telling the truth. 

Louis and Harry never talked much about their love lives and relationships because it had always been the one uncomfortable subject between them. Harry would never have known that Louis never told any of his ex-boyfriends or flings that he loved them because he always just loved Harry. 

Harry must have thought that Louis was only in love with him because he was the flavor of the month and that he would move on just as quickly. Harry must have overheard Zayn say that Louis was fickle in love and believed it.

He wants to fling the door open and explain, but he knows that Harry is trying to accomplish something here and he doesn’t want to ruin it. Harry slides the next photograph on the door, and Louis realizes that there can’t be many photos left. As he picks it up, his heart feels like it’s trying to make a run for it.

This photograph is from the night at the club when Harry had danced with someone else. Even the memory puts a bitter taste in Louis’ mouth, though he knows now just as he did then that he had no real ownership of Harry and no right to feel that way. The lights in the club were so bright that Louis didn’t notice the flash of Harry’s camera, but when he looks at it, he remembers the moment it must have been taken. 

In the photo, Louis is leaning his head on Liam’s shoulder, having just seen Harry with the other man. He looks sad and exhausted, broken, and the other lads are looking at him with concern. Louis knows it must have been taken very soon before he had left the club and had his argument with Harry outside.

_This was the night I fucked up_

Louis sighs and puts the photo on the top of the pile with the others before reaching for the other one that is already waiting for him.

This is the first of the photographs that doesn’t have Louis in it. It doesn’t have any person in it, and it’s instead just a photograph of Louis’ tie on the stairs in Harry’s building. The tie is crumpled into a ball where Louis had sat and cried for a few minutes after breaking things off with Harry. Louis hadn’t even realized he left it behind.

_This is the night I lost you_

Louis buries his face in his hands and has to hold back a sob. Part of him doesn’t want to know what comes next, but a bigger part of him is desperate for the conclusion to whatever Harry is doing here, even if it’s not the conclusion he wants. He waits for Harry to slide the next photo under the door, but it doesn’t come. Louis waits another minute before finally getting to his feet, muscles aching from how he’s been tense and curled up against the wall. 

He knows Harry can hear him get up because he hears Harry get up as well, the soft sound of his boots on the wooden floors of the hallway outside. Louis takes a deep breath and opens the door.

He’s not sure what he’s expecting, but it’s certainly not the flash of Harry’s camera in his face. Louis startles slightly, taking a step back. 

“This is the night I told you the truth,” Harry says, shrugging sheepishly. Louis notices that Harry has a bouquet of flowers that he hadn’t noticed through the peephole, and he watches curiously as Harry holds them out.

“Liam told me that you got a second callback,” Harry says, shrugging again. “I just wanted to say congratulations.” 

Louis gives one of the most genuine smiles he has in weeks, ushering Harry inside and taking the flowers from him. They’re a beautiful collection of purple, yellow, and white, and Louis gives them a big sniff before smiling again.

“Thank you,” he says quietly, quickly rummaging through a cabinet by the door for a vase and walking quickly to the kitchen to fill it up and put the flowers in water. When he returns to the living room after placing the flowers in water, he sees Harry glancing around the flat and familiarizing himself with it. It’s the third place that Harry and Louis toured together, but it looks much different now that Louis is completely moved in. 

Harry directs his attention to Louis immediately. 

“Can I get you tea or something?” Louis asks, nervously hiding his hands in the sleeves of his jumper and rocking on his heels slightly. Harry is standing there in front of him for the first time in weeks, and Louis knows that there’s still a lot more that needs to be said, to be explained, to be apologized for, but he’s not sure where to begin.

Harry shakes his head.

Louis starts to motion toward the sofa, but Harry closes the distance between them with a few long strides, grabbing Louis’ head in his hands and kissing him hard. It’s been weeks since Louis had this, and it’s so good to be kissed by Harry again that he can feel a tingling from his lips to his toes. Harry doesn’t go halfway with it, moving his lips over Louis’ with more passion than Louis has ever felt during a kiss before, and all he can do is hang on and try to keep up.

Part of Louis wants to push Harry away so they can talk things out before they do this, but a larger part of him wants to pull him in closer, so that’s what he does. He kisses Harry back with just as much fervor, hands tangling through Harry’s hair, and it feels so fucking right for a moment that Louis can almost forget what a mess they’ve made. 

Finally, he pulls himself back, a trail of saliva still connecting them. They’re both breathing heavily just from a few minutes of kissing, and Harry’s lips look very red. 

“Louis, why did you need space?” Harry asks gently, still holding Louis’ face. Louis walks backwards out of Harry’s grasp until he feels his back hit the wall he had been leaning against earlier. He slides down it for the second time that night and sits on the floor, knees bent toward his chest once more.

“I needed time,” Louis says, knowing that it isn’t the answer Harry is looking for. 

Harry just sits down on the floor in front of Louis.

“I already got that part, baby,” Harry says, and Louis’ gut twists at the pet name. Harry doesn’t even seem to have noticed that he used it. “Now I want you to tell me the rest of it.” 

Louis feels tears prickle in his eyes.

He hears Harry speak again, more softly this time. 

“If you want me to go, Lou, just say the word. I won’t force you to talk to me if you really don’t want to.”

Louis shakes his head. “I don’t want you to go, I just don’t know where to start,” he says, shrugging. This entire night has caught him entirely off guard, and even though Louis knows exactly how he’s feeling and exactly why he’s made the choices that he did over the past few weeks, months, even years, he doesn’t know where to begin explaining it to Harry.

“Okay,” Harry says cautiously. “I’ll talk first then.” 

Louis still doesn’t say anything, but his stomach clenches in anticipation.

“You’ve always been something more to me,” Harry begins. “Since the first day we met, you held a role in my life that couldn’t quite be defined. The easy explanation was that you were my best friend, and obviously you were, you are, but every time I said that out loud, every time I heard you say that out loud, I knew that it didn’t quite fit. You were more than that, you know? We were so much more than that.”

Louis nods. He knows that he and Harry have always had a special bond, something that always surpassed his friendship with Liam, even though Louis has known him the longest, or even Zayn, who Louis lived with and even slept with for a while. He and Harry just click in a way that has always reminded Louis of soulmates, though he never voiced that to anyone out of fear of sounding absolutely ridiculous. 

“My relationship with Kendall was great, don’t get me wrong. I cared about her a lot, and I loved her, though I don’t know that I was ever really _in_ love with her, even having been together for so long. And then there was you, always there, always one of my top priorities, and I know it bothered Kendall. We never talked about it and she would never have said it out loud, but I know she didn’t like it. I never cared though, and I know that’s not normal.” 

Louis thinks back to his interactions with Kendall over the years, and he remembers that she never seemed particularly fond of him. He and Kendall didn’t have much in common and Louis was kept at a distance from her relationship with Harry anyway, so Louis had always assumed that they weren’t close for those reasons. He never considered that his close and slightly co-dependent friendship with Harry may have been part of the issue.

Harry continues. “I was already dating Kendall when I realized that I was really fucking attracted to you. I’d always thought you were gorgeous, it was obvious from the first moment you opened that door the night we met, but it took me a while to admit to myself that I wasn’t just viewing you as objectively beautiful. I wanted you, but you were my closest friend, and I had a girlfriend, and you were always dating or sleeping with someone else, so I just pushed it aside and tried not to think about it. Then when Kendall and I broke up, that night in the club, I couldn’t think of a good enough reason not to kiss you. So I just did, and when you were into it, I suggested that we be friends with benefits. I thought maybe I could get my attraction for you out of my system and then we would go back to being friends and everything would be fine.”

“And then you fell for me for real,” Louis says, and Harry nods.

“I fell in love with you, yeah. Or maybe I was in love with you the entire time, but I finally admitted it to myself. Except I didn’t quite know how to tell you that when I’d spent all that time emphasizing how we were just friends and how it was casual.”

Louis wants to laugh about all the time he wasted worrying about how Harry keep reminding Louis that they were just friends hooking up sometimes now that he knows Harry was worrying about it too. All this time they wasted because they were too scared to be honest with one another.

“That night when we were playing video games, I overheard Zayn say that you fell in love with guys all the time and then you just got over it and moved on, and that scared the shit out of me. We had never discussed whether you'd been in love with any of your ex-boyfriends, and you’d told me that you didn’t have any feelings for Zayn when you guys had hooked up, but I wasn’t sure whether you'd just said that to appease me of any fears that you might fall for me. I freaked out, honestly. I had been trying to gather up enough courage to tell you about my feelings, but when I heard Zayn say that, I got too scared to put it all on the line and risk our friendship if you would just be able to move on like nothing happened afterwards,” Harry explains, and he looks disappointed himself. 

“That’s why I pulled that stunt in the club and lashed out when you got jealous. I should have just realized that it meant as much to you as it did to me, but I was confused and scared out of my mind and acting like a prick. I’m so sorry, Louis,” he says, sounding so earnest that it hurts Louis’ heart a bit.

“Harry, I get it,” Louis says. Because he does. He’s not going to pretend that Harry didn’t act like an arsehole or that Harry’s behavior didn’t hurt him, but he knows what it’s like to be too terrified of ruining a friendship to tell someone the truth. He hid the truth from Harry for years because of that fear.

Harry looks at Louis before speaking again. “You’re not going to just let me off the hook like that, right?” He says, one eyebrow raised. Louis gives him a small smile.

“You broke my fucking heart, Harry,” Louis says, and it feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. That weight had become a part of him over the past several years, and the relief at letting go of it is incredible. 

Harry’s face falls. 

“No, please, just listen to me for a minute. I fell in love with you so early into our friendship. Sometimes I wonder if I wasn’t half in love with you from the second you started munching on my sandwiches as though you hadn’t just made fun of me for them three seconds earlier,” Louis explains, and Harry just sits there patiently, listening. 

“Zayn was being sarcastic that night when you overheard us. He knows the truth. It was just always a thing, my feelings for you, and everybody else knew, though I didn’t necessarily talk to them about it very much. It became a part of me, but you never showed any interest, at least not that I noticed, so I just tried to live my life around my feelings, I guess. I slept with people, I dated people, and through all of that, I was in love with you.”

Louis thinks about all the boys and the bars, and his heart aches a little when he remembers how desperate he always was for his feelings for someone, anyone, to compare even just a little to what he felt for Harry. They never did.

“When we started hooking up, I knew it was a disaster, but I just. I just wanted you, I guess, and I decided I would deal with the consequences later. And then it was the best fucking thing I'd ever experienced, and I tried so hard to tell myself that it was nothing, we were just friends, but my heart was always saying something different than my head. It hurt like hell to think that you were just using me as a distraction, someone to fuck while you waited to find the love of your life or whatever, but I couldn’t give it up,” Louis says, shrugging his shoulders and looking up toward the light until he starts seeing spots in his eyes. 

“But you did give it up,” Harry says gently. 

“I was trying to get my life together, you know? I was finally going to try to follow my dreams and all that bullshit, I was going to be moving, getting a fresh start. And when you hurt me that night in the club and outside afterwards, I couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t move into this new chapter of my life feeling like I wasn’t good enough. I’d been settling for years – I’d settled with my job, I’d settled with all of my relationships and fuck buddies, and now that I had finally gotten out of that rut, I couldn’t just settle for an arrangement with a guy who wanted nothing more than a best friend and an occasional fuck.” 

It’s hard for Louis to voice all these thoughts to Harry, especially when he sees the pained look on Harry’s face, but he knows he has to. They can’t move forward without complete honesty, and Louis has held these feelings in long enough. Harry makes it easier by simply nodding rather than interrupting and protesting. 

“So I ended things with you and I asked for space. You had nudged me toward my fresh start, but when we stopped talking, I really made it happen for myself. I moved into my new flat. I started picking roles to audition for. I got a really good callback, and then a second callback. And I thought, all I still needed to do was figure out how the fuck to move on from you so we could go back to being friends.”

“Did you figure out how?” Harry asks, and for the first time since he arrived, he looks worried. Louis isn’t sure why, considering they just shared the kiss of the century, but he understands why Harry needs reassurance considering Louis ignored him for nearly a month. 

“You were there for that kiss a few minutes ago, right?” Louis says, smiling gently. 

Harry chuckles a bit, but it sounds wet, so Louis crawls over toward him and plops himself onto Harry’s lap. They wiggle around for a few seconds until Louis is comfortably straddling him.

“I’m in love with you,” Louis says, looking straight into Harry’s eyes. Harry smiles for real this time, eyes shining slightly, dimple popping out full force.

“And I’m in love with you,” Harry says, leaning in to kiss Louis gently. “I wish I'd known,” he says when he pulls away, wiping the wetness out from under Louis’ eyes. “I will never stop feeling sorry for hurting you.”

Louis kisses him again. “We both fucked up. I should have been more honest with you, and you should have been more honest with me. If we both had just communicated with each other, none of this would have happened, so I’m not blameless, love,” he says, wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck. 

They just kiss for a few more minutes until Louis stands up, pulling Harry to his feet as well. 

“Come cuddle with me, please,” Louis says, giving Harry his best puppy dog eyes. Harry rolls his eyes and follows Louis to his bedroom. 

Louis feels grateful that he hasn’t had enough time to truly wreck his new bedroom yet. There are pillows scattered on the floor and the bed definitely looks like he’s been practically living there for days, sheets tossed around messily, but other than that, the room is in respectable shape. Harry lies down on his back and pulls Louis over to rest his head on his chest. Louis can tell Harry is inhaling the scent of his hair, and it makes him smile.

“Why'd you come here tonight?” Louis asks, and when Harry makes a confused sound, he elaborates. “I mean, why now? We haven’t spoken in weeks, so why did you choose tonight to finally tell me how you felt?” 

Harry sighs and Louis gets off Harry slightly so they can make eye contact.

“I knew the night I last saw you that I'd fucked up, but I was still thinking about what Zayn said, so I half convinced myself that you would just move on like you had with those other guys. And it sucked to feel that way, which I know is nothing on what you’ve felt this entire time, but I figured when you started talking to me again, when I saw that you had moved on, I would be able to sort my feelings out and maybe start to get over you,” Harry says.

“And then weeks went by and I didn’t hear anything from you, and I could tell that Liam, Zayn, Niall, Sophia, Gigi, and even Barbara was pissed at me,” Harry says, and Louis laughs about the mention of Barbara. 

“How did she even know what had happened?” Louis asks.

Harry groans. “She didn’t know, really, but she hadn’t seen you around, she could see that I was moping, and I assume she noticed that Sophia was not pleased with me, so she put the pieces together well enough. She kept putting me on cleaning duty even though she usually alternates, and I was going crazy,” Harry says, and Louis laughs again.

Harry has a grumpy face on while Louis laughs, but he continues talking as soon as Louis shuts up. “Anyway, you didn’t come out on Friday nights, none of the boys would tell me anything about you, and it didn’t take me long to figure out that whatever I might have heard, I had clearly underestimated your feelings for me. A couple of days ago, I finally confessed everything to Liam. I think he knew it all for the most part already, but when I told him what I'd overheard, he almost murdered me.”

Louis smirks at that, grateful for Liam’s loyalty. 

“He told me I was a dumbass for believing that stuff. Then he said to me, ‘You think he’s in love with you, but it’s just a phase and he’ll get over it soon, right?’ And I didn’t nod because I knew he was close to committing homicide, but he knew that’s what I thought, so he told me to go the fuck home and look through all the pictures I have of the two of us from over the years. So I did.”

Louis is slightly confused now, and it must show on his face, because Harry clarifies quickly.

“In all the pictures of us during the last few months, you look at me like you’re in love with me,” Harry says, grin stretching across his face. “And when I looked through the older pictures, pictures from when you were dating Sebastian, Jon, and whoever else, you looked at me the same way. You’ve pretty much always looked at me like you’re in love with me, and you’ve never looked at anyone else like that. Just me.”

Louis huffs at the smugness in Harry’s voice, but he can’t keep the smile off his face either. It took Harry a long fucking time, but he got there eventually. 

“That's when I knew I had to tell you how I felt. So uh, here I am.”

Louis hums. “And you had to go super cheesy with the photos,” He says, enjoying the way Harry blushes.

“I have more than triple the number of photos of you than I have of any of our other friends, and more than double the amount I have of Kendall. Did you know that?” Harry asks. Louis shakes his head. “Well, anyway, photos helped me figure out your feelings, so I figured I’d use them to help you figure out mine,” Harry says, dimpling. Louis responds by poking his finger in the crater on Harry’s face and leaning up to kiss him again.

They lay there quietly for a few minutes, just holding each other, before Harry finally speaks again.

“We need to be better at communicating, baby,” Harry says softly. “We need to be honest with each other when we’re upset or unsure about something because I don’t want us to fuck this up again.”

They both made a mess out of their relationship because they were too scared to be honest with one another, but Louis knows that a failure of communication is the exception in his relationship with Harry, not the rule. He feels confident that they won’t make the same mistakes again. 

Louis nods and turns his head into Harry’s chest, inhaling the scent of Harry’s washing powder mixed with a smell that’s just distinctly Harry. He reaches down to squeeze Harry’s hand.

“I know,” he says. “We’ll figure it out.” 

 

* 

 

When Louis wakes up, the weight of Harry’s arm is swung over his back, but he somehow feels lighter than he has in years. He lies in bed for several minutes listening to the soft huff of Harry’s breathing, trying to give himself time to process the fact that last night really happened. 

It takes Louis almost two full minutes to wiggle his way out from under Harry’s arm without waking him, and when he finally manages it, he turns around and sees that Harry is sleeping on his stomach with his mouth open, face slack and peaceful, hair messy. It’s an image that Louis plans on seeing when he wakes up every day for the rest of his life. 

Louis tiptoes out of his bedroom and goes to shower and brush his teeth, figuring that it’s pointless to make himself a cuppa when Harry will just have him make another when he wakes up. As Louis brushes, he gazes at himself in the mirror. His hair resembles something of a bird’s nest and there’s a pillow crease lingering on his cheek, but he looks happy and rested and refreshed. 

When he finishes his shower, Harry’s still not awake. He’s contained his limbs somewhat on the bed while Louis was cleaning himself up, however, so Louis has room to lie back down without disturbing Harry’s sleep. Louis’ sheets are soft, and Harry is radiating warmth, and it’s not hard for Louis to close his eyes and fall back asleep.

When he awakens again, it’s to a light nudging. Louis groans softly and opens his eyes to Harry standing by his side of the bed holding two mugs of steaming tea. 

“G’morning, baby,” Harry says, putting down the mugs on Louis’ side table and leaning down to kiss Louis. Louis smiles, eyes crinkling, and kisses him back, reaching up to pull on one of Harry’s curls and watch it spring, freshly wet from the shower. 

Harry is starting to pull back when Louis makes a frustrated sound, pulling him down until he falls down on top of Louis. Louis’ legs fall open around Harry’s hips and Harry smiles against his lips, kissing back until both of their lips are slightly swollen.

“I want to make love to you,” Harry murmurs against Louis’ lips. Louis shivers slightly at that. 

“Make love, eh?” Louis asks in a slightly mocking tone, pulling back slightly and wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck.

Harry smiles, happy and cheesy, and nods. 

“Don’t bother pretending you hate it when I can feel how your body reacts to it, baby,” Harry says, voice smug.

Louis rolls his eyes and moves his hands down Harry’s body, appreciating the feeling of firm muscles under his hands again, squeezing slightly at Harry’s small bum to make him squeak with surprise.

“Are you clean?” Louis asks, voice soft. Harry rests his weight on his hands, keeping himself hovering above Louis’ body, and nods. “So am I,” Louis says, swallowing. “Could we maybe...” He trails off, uncertain.

Louis has never had unprotected sex with anyone, and as far as he knows, Harry hasn’t either. He’s always felt it was too intimate to do with any of his previous boyfriends or fuck buddies, but Louis wants to try it with Harry if Harry feels comfortable with it. They’re in love, and if everything goes as planned, they’ll be spending the rest of their fucking lives together, so Louis thinks he’s ready for this step.

Louis isn’t quite sure how Harry will react to this proposal, but when he looks into Harry’s eyes, he sees that his pupils are already blown. 

“Fuck, yeah, of course, Lou,” Harry says hurriedly, leaning down to kiss Louis again and grinding his erection down. 

Louis kisses him back just as eagerly, feeling his heart rate pick up, and he moves his hands down to pull off Harry’s shirt as Harry gets to work on Louis’ own boxers and shirt. 

It doesn’t take them long to peel off the rest of their clothing, eager hands wandering and re-familiarizing themselves with each others’ bodies after nearly a full month apart. 

“Lube, Harry, get the lube,” Louis says until Harry finally pulls away from him enough to rummage around for a bottle. 

When he finds it and places it down on the bed next to him, he leans up to kiss Louis again firmly. 

“Missed these,” Harry says, rubbing the pads of his fingers over Louis’ lips. 

“Missed these too,” he says, moving down to Louis’ small nipples, hardened from arousal. 

“Definitely missed this,” Harry says, kissing around Louis’ tummy while Louis’ muscles contract at the feeling.

“And this,” he says, voice lower, thumbing the head of Louis’ cock, already leaking.

“Harry,” Louis says, voice desperate. He glances down and sees Harry shake his head.

“And god, did I miss this,” Harry says, lifting Louis’ hips to grab at his arse cheeks with both hands. “What did you miss, Louis?” Harry asks, and Louis can hear him peeling the plastic off of the lube bottle and flicking it open. It’s been a while since Louis even touched himself, always too sad and missing Harry too much to get himself off, so he’s not surprised that Harry found an unopened bottle.

Louis feels Harry rub the pads of his fingers against his hole and shivers at the cold wet feeling of the lube, bracing himself for when Harry will work his way inside, but it doesn’t come. 

“What’d you miss, baby?” Harry repeats, continuing to let his fingers linger right where Louis wants them most without breaching it. Louis groans and throws a hand over his face, feeling desperate and already too worked up for casual conversation. He knows it’s the only way to get Harry to actually finger him, however, so he has to try.

“Your hair,” he says, reaching a hand down to grasp his own cock, only for Harry to move it away again. “Your eyes and how they look like different shades of green depending on the lighting.” 

Harry chooses that moment to start opening Louis up with one finger, and Louis loses his train of thought. 

“What else?” Harry asks after a moment of letting Louis adjust.

“Your nipples and how sensitive they are,” Louis says, wincing slightly as Harry pushes a second finger inside. “Your biceps and uh, fuck, your abs and your cute love handles.” 

Louis pauses for a moment to just focus on Harry’s fingers stretching him out, filling him up again for the first time in what feels like ages. Nobody has ever touched Louis the way that Harry does, and nobody else ever will. Harry rubs his fingers against Louis’ prostate as he slips a third finger inside, and Louis groans.

“Anything else?” Harry asks, smile in his voice. 

"Nope," he says, pushing himself down further on Harry’s fingers. He knows what Harry wants him to say, but he's not giving into Harry's cockiness this time, pun intended. 

In response to Louis' stubbornness, Harry pulls his fingers out and wipes them off on the sheets before slithering back up Louis’ body to kiss him. Louis tangles his fingers through Harry’s hair and pulls slightly, just enough for Harry to bite down on his bottom lip and groan. 

When Harry positions himself at Louis’ entrance, Louis wraps his legs around Harry’s waist and rests his head back on the pillows, anticipation swirling in his gut.

“You sure you can’t think of anything else you missed?” Harry asks as he pushes in, and Louis’ vision blacks out for a moment at the feeling of Harry splitting him open. Louis makes an unintelligible response to Harry’s question, but he’s betting Harry wasn’t expecting an answer at all. 

When he’s buried in to the hilt, Harry pauses so they can both breathe. 

“Fuck,” Harry mutters, and Louis seconds the sentiment in his head. Louis supposes that it doesn’t really feel all that different without a condom, at least not yet, but even just the knowledge that Harry’s inside him without any barrier makes it a thousand times better. Harry is breathing through his nose harshly, eyes dark and brow sweaty, and he looks like he’s already losing his mind at how it feels from his end. 

“I missed you, all of you,” Louis gasps as Harry starts to move, feeling overwhelmed.

“I missed you too, Louis, fuck,” Harry grits out as he nails Louis’ prostate, making Louis’ body shake. Louis’ hands move across Harry’s back frantically and he digs his nails in slightly, just trying to hold on, which only seems to motivate Harry to fuck him harder, faster.

Harry keeps mouthing at Louis’ lips, cheeks, and neck, but Louis doesn’t even have the energy to kiss him back properly. It’s all he can do to just hold on while Harry fucks him into the mattress, helping them both release all the pent up sexual and emotional energy that they had to push aside while they were separated.

Louis missed this so much, is the thing. Not just the feeling of Harry’s body against his or the feeling of Harry filling him up, but feeling like he and Harry are connected in a way that doesn’t compare to anything else Louis has ever experienced with anyone else. And now, to have it when Louis knows that the feeling is mutual and that this means just as much to Harry as it does to him, well. Louis knows nothing will ever feel better than that. 

“You feel incredible,” Harry says, and Louis forces his eyes open.

Harry is sweaty and red-faced from exertion, and Louis has never seen anything more beautiful. Every thrust is nailing Louis’ prostate and the pleasure zinging through his veins is unrelenting, overwhelming, too much. Even the thought of moving his hand down to pull himself off is too much for him to think about with Harry pounding away inside him.

“I love you, baby,” Harry says, sucking a love bite into his collarbone as he thrusts in hard, and Louis comes, just like that. His eyes squeeze shut and his mouth opens in a silent cry, and Louis comes untouched on Harry’s cock spilling onto Harry’s abs and his own stomach without another thought.

When Louis reopens his eyes, Harry is staring down at him with wonder. He’s still inside Louis, thrusts having slowed slightly but not stopped, and it’s slightly uncomfortable, but Harry’s stuttering hips suggest that he won’t be lasting much longer himself. 

“I love you,” Louis says, leaning up to kiss Harry and using the fingers on one hand to pull on his nipples in the way that Harry always pretends bothers him. Harry pushes in one more time and Louis feels him come inside, the first person that has ever done that with him, and the last. 

It takes Harry several minutes to catch his breath before he pulls out, making Louis wince slightly in discomfort. Always the gentleman, Harry doesn’t allow Louis to stay empty for long, immediately pushing two fingers in to feel around at the wetness there in fascination. Louis rolls his eyes when he feels Harry grinning against his neck. 

“Not sure why you bothered showering,” Harry says, smugness evidence in his voice. Louis groans and pinches Harry in the side. “Seriously though, thanks for giving me a second chance, Lou. I’m sorry I made you wait so long,” he adds, and now his voice sweet and incredibly honest. 

Louis pulls Harry’s face up from where it’s buried in his neck and kisses him, soft and open-mouthed.

Deep down, Louis knows that things happened the way they were supposed to. Harry has been the most important person in his life for four years, and he’s been the most important person in Harry’s life too, even if it was messier and less obvious. It took them a long time to get to where they are now, but what’s important is that they got there. They’ve figured it out now, and they won’t make the same mistakes again. Of that, Louis is certain. 

“You were worth the wait,” he says against Harry’s lips, and it’s true.


	7. Epilogue

**_Six months later..._ **

When a knock sounds loudly at the door, Louis groans exaggeratedly.

“Anybody want to get that?” He asks, but everyone around him shakes their heads. Louis realizes that it’s his flat and he should probably be expected to open the door unless he’s occupied with something else, but he just sat down on the sofa and the second he gets up, he knows Niall is going to take his spot.

Louis sighs and gets up anyway, trudging over to the door like he’s walking to his death. He flings the door open as obnoxiously as he always has, but when he sees the person standing on the other side, he immediately slams it closed again. Within two seconds, the person knocks again, louder this time.

“Open the fucking door,” Liam says from the sofa. Louis sighs and turns the handle. 

“Sorry, but who are you and why are you knocking on the door to my flat?” Louis asks, squinting suspiciously at the curly-haired man standing in front of him. The man looks familiar, but Louis can’t quite place him.

“My name is Harry Styles, I’m your boyfriend, and I’m knocking on the door to _our_ flat because I forgot my key when I went to the grocery store,” Harry says. “You know, when I went to the grocery store to buy a replacement dessert because you dropped my cupcakes on the floor.” 

Louis gives a cheeky smile and opens the door wide enough for Harry to walk in. “Ah, yes, it’s all coming back to me now! You do look familiar, now that I think about it. Welcome back!”

Harry rolls his eyes and walks over to the table where the potluck foods are all arranged neatly. There’s only one empty spot where the cupcakes were supposed to be, and Harry gently sets down a cake that’s decorated with the words “We’re proud of you!” written in blue and green frosting.

Louis stands next to Harry as he gazes at the table and can’t help but be impressed by the wide variety of foods in front of them. They don’t have potlucks very frequently, but as they've grown up and become more experienced at cooking and baking, each potluck has been tastier than the last. Only one person hasn’t improved, really, but everyone enjoys sandwiches at potlucks, so it’s not like it matters.

“Looks good,” Louis says, leaning his head on Harry’s shoulder. 

“Those sandwiches especially,” Harry agrees, giving Louis a quick kiss on the forehead. “Very gourmet.” 

Louis smiles and lifts his head off of Harry’s shoulder so they can face each other properly. 

“I really am sorry about the cupcakes,” Louis says softly, but Harry just shakes his head and looks amused.

“It’s okay, baby,” he says, leaning down to kiss Louis gently. “They were celebratory cupcakes in your honor, so you really only ended up hurting yourself.” 

Louis pinches Harry’s nipple before leaning in to kiss him again.

“No offense, but can you two stop being disgusting so we can finally eat?” Zayn asks from his spot on the floor. “I was starving twenty minutes ago when Louis knocked over the cupcakes and set the whole evening back, and surprise surprise, I’m still hungry now.” 

“Fuck off, Zayn,” Louis says, grabbing a plate from the stack and starting to fill it with everything he’s interested in eating. “Last I checked, this is our flat and the focus of tonight is celebrating the fact that I finished filming my first season, so you should really keep your big mouth closed, don’t you think?” 

Most of his friends are already ignoring Louis in favor of getting up to grab their own plates, but Zayn comes up behind Louis just to say, “I’m proud of you, Louis, but my stomach waits for no one.” 

Louis exchanges a look with Gigi, who knows better than most that Zayn can almost be as nasty as Niall when he’s feeling hungry. As Zayn meanders off to fill his own plate, Louis returns to the sofa to reclaim his spot from before and puts his plate down next to him to save that spot for Harry. 

It doesn’t take long for everyone to load up their plates with food and settle back down on the sofa and floor, chatting amongst themselves about work, wedding plans, and all the random gossip from the past week. They’ll put a film on in a few minutes, but Louis wants to give everyone a chance to catch up first. 

Harry is the last to return to the sofa, and when he does, he has his plate in one hand and two mini sandwiches in the other. Louis looks at him fondly, but doesn’t comment. 

Just before he digs in, Louis takes a moment to appreciate the sight. He’s sitting in his and his boyfriend’s flat with a group of the best people he’s ever met, all sharing in each others' lives and successes, and he feels more content than ever. A year ago, Louis may have experienced a few endings, but they gave him the chance for a new beginning. 

He wouldn’t have it any other way. 

 

*

 

“I’d say our first potluck as official flatmates was a success,” Louis says as he gazes around the room. There are empty plates stacked on the coffee table, blankets draped all over the floor and sofas, and Louis can see the glint of a beer bottle where Niall must have stuck it in between two sofa cushions.

“Flatmates?” Harry says, walking over to Louis and frowning. “Is that what we are?” 

Louis makes a considering noise as though he hasn’t quite decided.

“I don’t think so,” Harry says. “We’re definitely more than just flatmates. You see, flatmates are usually temporary.” 

Louis reaches out to fix the beanie on Harry’s head where it’s gone slightly lopsided, breaking character for a minute while Harry watches him fondly. Then he frowns. “So this arrangement isn’t temporary? Our love isn’t temporary?” He says, mock concerned. They’ve known each other a long time, so Harry knows exactly what Louis is doing. He plays along anyway.

Harry shakes his head and kisses Louis. It should be an innocent kiss, probably, but it rarely stays that way when it comes to Louis and Harry. They kiss just as passionately as they always have, setting the world on fire, lips wet and tongues entwined and everything else fading away. Louis doesn’t know how many hundreds of times he and Harry have kissed by now, but he does know that every single one is just as good as the last.

“You see, I’m going to love you forever, and you’re going to love me forever,” Harry says, hugging Louis close. Louis loops his arms around Harry's neck and they just stand there holding each other for a moment. 

Finally, Louis pulls back.

“Pinky promise?” Louis asks, looking up at Harry and sticking his pinky up. Harry breaks out into a big smile, dimpling, and he’s clearly surprised, but he knows what comes next. 

Harry wraps his pinky finger around Louis'.

Louis smiles at the man who is his best friend, his boyfriend, and the love of his fucking life, and he thinks about the first time they locked pinky fingers. They’ve come a long way since then, but some things haven’t changed.

“Pinkies never lie,” Harry says, and Louis smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Tumblr [here.](http://lads-laddylads.tumblr.com) If you enjoyed this story, please reblog the photoset for it [here.](http://lads-laddylads.tumblr.com/post/151069955945/title-pinkies-never-lie-rating-explicit-word)
> 
> This is for Miles and Seb. I hope I didn't let you down.


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